Familiar and unfamiliar: another year forward

I don't know if I want to gush. I've never actually been the sort of person to enjoy the dawning of a new year; for most of the previous new-year-eves' that I'd lived through, life stood the same. It's like any other day, really. You wake up in the morning, there's far too much sun streaming into your room, and you wonder for a moment if you're late for work before recalling that it's Saturday--a holiday. You breathe a sigh of relief.

And then it begins.

People ask, all the time. What're you doing for New Years' Eve? Most of the time, I have no response. Not because I'm too badass to celebrate - the honest to God answer, I'm afraid, is that I'm simply too much of a boring, housewifey homebody to even consider going out to party. The idea of sitting in a stuffy, smoky room with complete utter strangers in various stages of smelling-like-rotten-fish isn't particularly appealing for me. I'd much rather be at home. Stalking my friends on Facebook. Eating pot roast. Cooking that pot roast. Digging huge spoons into ice-cream. Reading cookbooks. Watching dramas.

It's the little comforts in life, after all, that make or break a day. These are my little comforts. They keep me whole and keep me sane. The comfort of knowing that I have a little kingdom to come home to, and to immerse myself in heart-and-soul. The comfort of knowing that I am loved, despite my shortcomings. The comfort of a hot, spicy bowl of soup on a cold, rainy day.

After all, what is life without all those?

So love yourself. Today is any other day. It's the dawn of a brand new year. But every day is a new day, and every dawn brings light anew. Live each day. Celebrate each day. Be grateful for it. Because at the end of it all, these days tell your story.

Cheers, folks.