Welcome to January two thousand and ten, I say. I’ll always remember the last decade as the “naughties” as unprofessional and unintelligent as that is, and I’ll look back fondly on a decade that bore no personal significance to me whatsoever.
Friday January first, two-thousand-and-ten; it’s just another day really, albeit a day to kick off a much needed long weekend. I worked accidentally on my last public holiday, so I’m planning on taking this one off, without guilt, and spending some quality personal time with myself.
The last few weeks have been hectic, but great. Nick visited, and so I spent an awful lot of time spreading myself between work and friend, and I’m ashamed to say that work suffered somewhat. He’s gone home now which is devastating, but now I’ve got time to catch up on everything I’ve missed in the last few weeks. I’ll miss the buddy though.
Last night I went to Steve’s place on the Sunshine Coast for his rooftop NYE party. I’ve been coming down with a cold (I’m convinced contracted at the family Christmas event,) so I was almost going to not go, but then the depressing prospect of spending my favourite day of the year all by myself in my room eating corn chips and watching re-runs of Daria in my underpants struck me, and I decided to go anyway.
I’m glad I did, because I had loads of fun catching up with everyone. I decided not to drink, because the last time I did that when I had a cold, it made it a thousand times worse, instead I opted to drive up there, stay a while, and then drive back home. It worked out well because the party kind of petered out at around one, so I left and drove home to the blissful trance of some unremarkable DJ on the radio.
Not sure what I’m going to do with myself tomorrow, but I’m most likely going to drug myself up and get as much rest as possible in the hopes my illness will go away.
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