All is Quiet

“All is quiet on New Year’s Day. A world in white gets underway.” ~U2

When I was working at the pizza buffet we would place bets on when the first customer would come in on New Year’s Day. Closest to the time got a free pie. I always bet the over, so if the latest time was noon, I would say 12:01. More often than not I was right too. You’d think others would have realized it at least one of the three New Year’s Days I worked there.

I always bet the over because I knew what everyone should know. While New Year’s Eve is full of all the pomp and circumstance, all the parties and excitement, all the balloons and revelry, even the giant ball descending from above, it leaves nothing for its counterpart on the other side of midnight. Well, it leaves exhausted people who just want to sleep as much as they possibly can.

That’s why New Year’s morning is always dead. Not many cars on the road. Not many people out and about. Not much at all. Which of course is in direct conflict with the idea of New Year’s, that everything is now vibrant with life, that the flipping of the calendar somehow makes it so. Instead, as the sun rises on a new year, all is quiet. And I love it. I love when things don’t match what they’re supposed to be, because it means there’s a chance the year will bring some positive surprises too.

So what am I doing up? Shhh. I’m not really.


Being Still

On my days off I like to be still, to just sit in one spot most of the day. That doesn’t mean I don’t like doing things. I just like to do them while being in that one spot. For instance, today I did several loads of laundry, but I was only up long enough to put clothes in and out of the washer and the dryer, and on and off of the drying racks. But the brunt of the work was done after, while sitting in this one spot folding and placing those same clothes on the couch and ottoman. At one point I had a regular mountain of neatly folded clothes next to me while Taylor Swift sang Christmas music in the background. She’s magical.

Don’t get me wrong. I like making plans, going out and doing things in an orderly fashion, like bowling, watching a movie, or just strolling down the boulevard with mates of mine, but if given a choice I would prefer to hole up at home in my jammies with my plush robe wrapped tightly around me and sit in this one spot for as long as I can before my butt goes numb. That’s just me.

Like Sheldon Cooper I have a special spot where my butt has made an indentation on the cushion. Every month or so I flip it over so I can imprint on the opposite side, and so that it can maintain its comfort factor. Or sometimes I’ll grab my BOSE sound dock and head to my bed, setting up there for a good read or to write my latest blog entry. The key is settling in and not moving for a good long while. When I have to get up after I’ve settled into my spot I can be cantankerous like a kid without his sugar rush.

But my days off are few and far between, particularly the ones when I’m not here entertaining children or when I’m not heading to town to run errands, so the days of being still are even more cherished the older I get. Do you prefer to stay active outside of the house or to be still when you get a moment to yourself?


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