plan of attack

I don't do New Year's resolutions. But when you have something as concrete as a number clicking over, it's hard not to look at the dates on the calender as a milestone. The fact that the passing of the calender year is so closely followed by the passing of my year kinda gangs up on me.

So last year's prediction about how 2003 was going to go was pretty much right on the money. (Synopsis for those who can't be bothered to go look it up: work, work, work, work, work, fun, work, friends, work, work, work, work. Maybe I should go into "psychic readings", no? Well ok, no.)

It was full of a lot of damn good things. Turning 40, buying the new house, meeting spiderlikefreak, meeting other good solid people who I now consider friends.

But fuck was it exhausting.

The last week of the year involved me working way too many hours at way too many things, getting not nearly enough sleep, no time for the gym or taking care of my skin, getting stuff accomplished but nothing actually finally fucking finished, plans for more work, bitchy, cranky and so fucking tired...

Enough. This is rediculous. I'm done. I can see the Big Fuckoff Wall Of Burnout approaching fast and I know from experience how much of a mess that thing makes on impact. I have no desire to go that route again.

I am most definitely not backing off -- not on the things I want. But am going to be spending a lot more time planning my attacks and a lot less time just flailing at things. An occasional good berzerker is good for the soul, but it's damn exhausting to try and keep that shit up for long.

The word of last year was freefall. This year the word is lava.

So I guess that is a resolution.

Raar.