Weary New (Not-Weary) Year

Between 1992 and 1996, when I lived in Texas, I began taking my aspirations of becoming a writer seriously, and did what most writers do:

I bought a copy of the latest Writer's Market, researched all of the places that I thought gelled with my writing and concepts, then meticulously dusted off all of my best stuff, made it pretty, and sent it off to the researched places.

Within a few weeks, the rejection letters trickled in, and soon I was out of places to send my best stuff to.

So I began a process of writing first thing in the morning. I would write just to write... sort of like a musician noodling around on a guitar. I felt that maybe some of the lines and paragraphs that I'd write would light the fire to something bigger and better.

Many times, however, I would end up with poems that started:
"My blurry eyes look at the blank computer screen. Suddenly I realize that I need to rearrange my sock drawer... anything to keep me distracted from this..."

I am reminded of this right now because I sit trying to come up with a witty, profound topic to discuss, and all I can think about is how tired I am... my eyes, my legs, my back, my arms... I really struggled to get up this morning, and really don't know why I feel so battered - although it could be because I have a cool new alarm clock that I cannot hear - really! - when I lay of my left side.

A couple of years ago, I was blowing up helium balloons for a charity event, when a balloon suddenly exploded next to my right ear. With all of the ringing in that ear, I didn't realize the depth of the damage done - until I met Sheryl, and realized that she sounded muffled when she spoke to me as I lay on my left side - my "good ear" covered.

A month ago, Sheryl went out of town for a couple of days. While she was gone, I realized that the tone of my new cool alarm clock was one of the tones blown out by the bursting balloon. I put my head on the pillow and I couldn't hear the alarm. I lifted my head up, and I could hear it. It kinda pisses me off.

Anyway, because I cannot always hear the alarm, Sheryl has to beat me in order for me to wake up and shut off my alarm. And perhaps that's why I feel so battered this morning...

For the record, Sheryl really doesn't beat me... a couple of knees to the kidneys and I'm usually pretty awake! :)

Couldn't resist... I am totally joking.

Maybe I am worn out from Christmas. And riding. I dunno. In any case, I am heading off to Vegas tomorrow to celebrate New Years' and to see Van Halen. I hope to get a lot of sleep between now and arrival at LAS.

In many recent years, I have looked forward to the next year to bring me all of the good things I worked so hard for. 2007 was the year that everything came together for me. I don't think I ever had a bigger or better year than 2007. I am so happy and so blessed.

What will 2008 bring? I suspect that it will bring more of all of the good things in my life.

What do I hope to improve on over 2007? More miles on my bike... the new, still unnamed bike needs to be properly broken in... I would love to do a multi-day ride...

Since this is likely my last post for this amazing year, I want to paraphrase a line that I include in my bedtime prayers:

"Thank you for our amazing friends and families, and please grant them blessings similar to the ones that Sheryl and I have been granted."

Happy New Year, all!!