things are pretty crazy. I came back to the world's largest pile of seemingly unending work at the opera, and I'm trying to bushwhack through all of it while simultaneously maintaining a running and horseback riding schedule, continuing to trod through the second game of thrones book, finish my knitting, and not turn the apartment into a total sty. and it's only january fourth.
january fourth. my friend hannah had her baby this morning, genevieve moira, a healthy baby girl. the entire office -- nay, seemingly all of the internet -- waited all day with bated breath. I got to work very early this morning and for the whole morning tried to direct my iron will towards my to do list, while internally pacing like a wild thing. now that we're all accustomed to acquiring information at the moment it occurs, having to wait even eight hours was agony. there were audible cheers down the length of the hallway when joe's announcement finally popped up on facebook. when a friend texted me a photo of hannah, eyes full of love, holding her little girl, I cried. these are some of the best people I know, truly, and without them I would hardly have survived the last bit of 2011. I can't wait to see them as parents, can't wait to hold their baby. isn't there a less hackneyed word for "joy"?
my new year's resolution is to write at least ten minutes a day, every day of 2012. to be honest, I am already 50% behind, having missed both new year's day and yesterday. the tacit understanding I've built into the resolution, though, is that it isn't a streak; a day of forgetting won't wreck the year. there is no failure. there is only ten minutes of writing a day, every day. writing = letters, journals, involved personal emails, blog posts. opera blog posts may or may not count, depending. (I can't draw the line, but I'll know it when I see it). this is in hopes of returning to a practice, one I kept without thought in college but lost later.
I would like to write more letters. wouldn't you like to receive more letters?
I have a lot of minor resolutions that aren't really resolutions, but something more like proverbial presses of the reset button. one of them: I rode my horse last night, for the first time in a month. a lot of things have been keeping me away: laziness, nervousness, injury. but when we celebrated our three year anniversary, I suddenly realized that having a horse was my little-girl dream come true, and I haven't been honoring that dream. cookie is well taken care of, but I take her for granted. eleven-year-old me -- the girl who tied rope to her bike handlebars, to make them into reins -- would be appalled at how little I am out there, grooming and petting, feeding treats, riding or just hanging out. I want to do better, both for cookie and for that eleven-year-old, who with every good report card got to pick out a toy from the toy store and who always picked the breyer horses.