I'm not a fan of New Years. It's a bold statement, sure. On that seems to say I'm not in favour of new beginnings and new opportunities. That's not the case at all. I welcome newness, but I don't think a date on a calender will herald them in. This New Years Eve, as has been the case for the last five or six I've been met with disappointment. Yes, school went well and I'm happy that it did, but at the end of the night, at the end of the year I find myself fairly low. I take rapid stock of my life and realize that while some things are going well, others are not.
The PRP has not let up. I thought that it would by this time, but alas it holds on still. I threw my back out at work on New Years Eve day. Lifting a box of clay I did something that caused a spasm, and I remained fairly immobile for the rest of the day. Even today I'm stiff and don't have the full range that I'd like.
I wish I could shake this oppressive feeling I'm under. I can't help it, it's the selfish part of me that wants things to go just so. My way or the highway. I can't control the planet, or the people on it.
A New Year is ahead of me and I fear in twelve months time I will feel exactly the same.
