It's wonderfully easy to be distracted by anything this time of year, the week between holidays -- a period of time where, in years past, these days wouldn't count, or would be topsy turvy. Let the servants be served, let the aristocrats be peasants and vice versa, and there might be a blood sacrifice somewhere in there for fun. Let up be down, let light be dark, let all our terrible desires be well intended and lets all get very drunk. I am the queen of the Bean; I am the matchstick madonna; I am a well-dressed receptionist with a 5500 keystroke per minute data entry speed. I am presentable and regal. I am grace.
This is not a time of new beginnings. In fact, they're practically impossible in this week and, as I venture forth in some attempt at being productive, I imagine no one will take it all that seriously. But I remember one New Year's day, in a particularly dejected time in my life, I woke up with a big bruise on my head and the dedicated intent to attend grad school. At least this time around I'm a little ahead of my own curves. I just need a good idea, that's all.
So spin the hampster wheel one more time, give my regards to the other side of the cage and meet me at the Nice n Easy. I'll be there one more night.