Another Year, Another Year

[History] is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake. (James Joyce, Ulysses)

Today is the last day of staycation before I must return to the office to beep and boop the computers. I took off work for a week and a day to celebrate my birthday.[1] I'm having a lie-in, reading the news, and drinking coffee in bed. I don't do this often. It's nice, though.

I didn't accomplish much over my staycation, but what I did manage to get done was significant. I replaced my identification after losing my wallet months ago. That required a trip to Camden City Hall to correct a typo on my birth certificate before PennDot could accept it as proof of ID. I plan to renew my passport later in the week. Having lots of identification seems like a good idea anymore. Plus, I hope to be traveling some soon.

I ordered new glasses. I need two prescriptions now, one for computers and another for reading. Technically, I could do with a third for near-middle distance, but you have to draw a line somewhere when it comes to aging.[2] And I got my expensive eyedrops refilled. There's still over $400 in my HSA that won't roll over; I should schedule my annual vision screening this afternoon.

I didn't work any vaccinations into the schedule because I have to take some routine (unrelated) tests, but nobody has told me yet when or where, so I didn't want to risk being out of commission when the appointment becomes available.[3] I'll get the flu and COVID combo on Friday or Saturday. As for today, I hope to peel myself away from this computer, tidy the apartment, and maybe go uptown to buy a new jacket.

Whether or not I get uptown today depends on when my Amazon delivery arrives. It should be here any time between 10 am and 10 pm. I'm waiting on a big order of birthday presents I bought myself: disposable nighttime bite-guards for my tooth-shattering bruxism, a few wooden spoons, anti-slip yoga socks, small trashcans for the bath and bedrooms, scrubby sponges for the kitchen, mouthwash that doesn't burn, trash bags that don't stink of Fabreze, and some lubricant — the other kind.[4]

It's rather dull, I suppose, but we could all do with a little less excitement lately.

Without further ado, this year's resolutions . . .

  1. Move someplace new. That could be on the other side of the Atlantic or just across the street.
  2. Join a gymnasium, hire a trainer, and get reasonably fit.
  3. Consume far less. This is as much about saving money as cutting clutter and reducing my footprint.
  4. Catch up on all the medical stuff everyone always puts off.
  5. Spend far less time on social media, news and current events, and streaming entertainment.
  6. Read more magazines and books.
  7. Reboot a solid meditation habit.
  8. Make more art. Take photos. Write stuff.
  9. Focus on personal happiness and fulfillment — even if the world as we know it is a dark and tragic mess.


  1. And to cash my PTO before it vanishes at the end of the year.
  2. I've tried progressives twice. I never took to them despite taking great pains to do so.
  3. The messages to schedule my appointments started coming in as I was finishing this post.
  4. I don't know about this getting old thing. It feels like a mistake.

Screaming Sneakers - Violent Days