THE PUBLIC SHELF
Open on New Year’s Day
Happy new year, me. It's the last week of December as I write this, and the house still smells like pine needles and the cinnamon rolls we burned on Christmas morning.
I'm not doing resolutions this year. They never work. I'm doing three wishes instead, and I want you to check in on them.
One: be kinder to your body. Not punishing workouts in January that you quit by February. Walks. Water. Going to bed before midnight. Treating it like something you live in, not something you're fixing.
Two: say yes to the trip. You know the one. You've been talking about Portugal for four years. Every year there's a reason not to go. This year, the reason is going to be the same as always, which is fear dressed up as practicality. Go anyway.
Three: stop waiting until you feel ready. For the conversation with Mom. For the class. For the haircut, honestly. Ready isn't coming. You just have to start.
Also, please, for the love of everything, fix the squeaky cabinet above the stove. It has been two full years. It's a single screw.
I'm rooting for you this year. I really am. Even if you only manage one of three.
Me, last December
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