2013

It has taken 2 paracetamol, 3 large glasses of water, 6 chicken McNuggets, 8 chocolate coins and 75 minutes of afternoon sleep to stop my head from spinning.

This is not the post that I envisaged posting today, nor the start of 2013 that I was anticipating. If I could take back the last 16 hours, I absolutely would.

Regret is a bitter pill and all that.

In the post that I envisaged posting, I had a long list of cool stuff that I wanted to do in 2013 and a jokey head-nod to the fact that the 13 is making me kind of nervous. I wondered if getting it out there would make it go away.

I don’t think it would have.

My boyfriend brought me a lucky Whitby duck at Christmas to counteract whatever bad things I am expecting. Maybe the only cure for a silly superstition is to balance it with something equally silly? It is frustrating to see the absurdity of your feelings and yet still feel them.

So this is a post about a New Year that I am slightly wary of because it ends in 13 and because it hasn’t got off to the best of starts. It is about how my challenge for 2013 won’t be to learn the Charleston or to ride across London on a Boris bike or to chew less gum or drink less diet coke….it will just be to not get worried by ridiculous things and to believe that the outcome of the year is dictated by me, rather than by two small digits. That at any moment I can take a deep breath and start all over again.

Which I can.

Happy 2013. I hope that you make it everything that you wish for.

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