I wonder what it would be like to work for a calendar company on New Years Eve. Executives hovering over a TV set in the board room, all eyes on that magic ball in Times Square. Tension building, foreheads sweating. Then at one second past midnight, they all sigh and relax, complimenting each other. Another year indeed begins, meaning no mass refunds for calendars sold in December.
New Years Day is a day to both reflect on the past year and set goals for the new year to come. Technically, it’s 2008, but really New Years Day is more of a “bridge” day between the two years. The day doesn’t exist. It’s in limbo. That’s why it’s a holiday — they can’t figure out how to pay you for New Years Day. I think it’s also the one day of the year that you can commit crimes and they don’t count.
Today can be summed up in one word: lists. Everyone makes a list on New Years Day, disguised by the name “resolutions.” These are things we were supposed to do last year, but say we’re going to do this year, giving us 364 days to forget them for next year. Smarter hominids write with cheap pens so that the ink fades by November. For everyone else, these lists of resolutions become lists of “what the hell was I thinking?” and are instantly replaced by lists of things we want for Christmas. Santa, of course, steals those lists and replaces them with blank paper so you have about a week to prepare for your New Years Day resolutions. It’s a perpetual cycle of self improvement. Or at least writing about self improvement.
Some make only a few lofty resolutions, like engaging in world travel, earning an educational degree, writing lists. Others, like myself, believe in setting several small goals that are easier to manage, like vacuuming. Or making pudding. Come next January, I don’t want to be the fool holding a list of incomplete goals. Pudding is not subject to flight delays or getting an “A” in Physics.
What’s on my list for 2008? I’d like to publish more work, for one. I’m putting the Egypt Room on hold so that I can build up my home studio and office. I also need to unpack; I moved into the chateau last June, and at least half of my belongings are still in boxes. I also want to do more travel and free writing, the latter being the inspiration for new works to publish.
Ohno! I just made a list!
Jan 012008
Jefferson Feil is a producer/screenwriter living in the Los Angeles area. A California native, Jeff spends his time relaxing by his backyard pool, writing captivating screenplays, frightening his neighbors, entertaining his three cats with pretend mice, and exploring the versatility of common household items. He also dabbles in photography, voice acting, and kitchen fire management. His charm and sarcastic sense of humor create an eclectic mix of intrigue and sophistication, which pour through his literary works like nacho cheese. He is the recipient of several top honors, including the prestigious Mrs. Schumacher 5th Grade Perfect Attendance award.