First the dread…well, tomorrow it’s back to work, and bleh. For a while now I haven’t exactly looked forward to work, but I don’t recall ever feeling quite this morose about it. I’m almost queasy. How sad is that? And clearly an indicator that it’s time to move on, but no worries, I’m working on that.
Which gets us into the optimism. First, work…now, nothing is for certain and I’ve been known to change my mind. But things on the career-change front hit a big success marker recently, and I’m pretty sure it’s on the way to working out. So while I really, really am not in the mood for the nonsense that my job often entails, I think I may have just enough chutzpah to survive five more months without either going nuts or turning into a lame-ducker. If I survive I’ll owe a lot to my friends, who already put up with way too much but somehow never let me down.
And there’s some optimism on the home front. To tell the truth, this holiday season was one of the saddest, most dismal in years, with family stress at an all-time high. But somehow I feel like we’ve turned a corner. Things are starting to look up, and I’m working on realizing that most of it is either out of my control or not really my problem. I owe a lot of that perspective to the Vixen, who I was lucky enough to spend some time with. I think she knocked a little sense into my head. 
Now this last part is kind of woo-woo, so bear with me. I’ve got a good feeling. It’s like a combination of hope, anticipation, and certainty, and I tell you, I don’t have these very often. Most of the time my premonitions bend in the “oh Jesus, we’re doomed” direction. This is different–it’s a gut feeling. Something big is going to happen this year. Beyond the whole career change thing, too. I think love might be on my horizon. Forgive the Charlotte York-iness of that last statement (sorry, too much Sex and the City over the weekend) but I’m telling you, someone’s waiting around the bend. I know, I know! Hokey! I’m not psychic, and not even particularly superstitious. I don’t have any prospects, not a one. But I somehow just know it. I mean, I’m not saying I’m going to end up married. Maybe I won’t even be in a relationship over the next 12 months…but I think I’m going to meet somebody important. Or figure out that somebody I’ve already met is important. Or something like that. It’s very non-specific. But even though it goes against nearly every cynical, Debbie-downer part of my nature, my instincts are telling me to trust it. Ever get one of those feelings? It’s weird. But in a good way.
Sorry, sorry, I know it’s cheesy. I thought I’d share it with the world (or at least the half-dozen regular readers) because it’s just so out-of-the-ordinary for me. What do you think, am I losing it?
Now it’s time to do the whole night-before-returning-to-work insomnia thing, so I’m out for now. Don’t worry, one of my New Year’s resolutions is to blog more often.
