Wishing away the days

Going back to work after the holidays is like sitting in the waiting room at the colonoscopy clinic… Nobody really wants to go in, but everyone is scared that if they don’t they might not last more than a couple of months.

As much craic as Christmas is, the lifestyle is unsustainable.

For almost two full weeks there, I was living like Keith Moon just before he croaked it.

Seriously, if it weren’t for the debilitating food-induced lethargy, I am pretty sure I would have chucked the TV clean out the window. Fortunately, though, for the sake of the family entertainment unit and possibly the family unit itself, life in the festive fast lane was just too damn fast for me. I had no choice but to leave the Moon behind me and come back down to earth.

However, while you would think that my acute awareness of the fate that awaits the perpetual partier would have provided me with the requisite resolve required to go full monk mode in the new year, I have found starting 2024 pretty hard. Though the wiser wing of me knows that the resumption of routine is crucial for both my survival and happiness, a less prudent part wants to postpone the return to porridge for as long as possible.

Lying in bed the night before I returned to the office, my mind became uncomfortably captive to this conflict. But from this internal feud sprang my only real resolution for 2024.

“Ahh Jesus… work,” I groaned as I flicked out the light.

“Wise up you weak-willed wino,” I rebuked myself. “If ye kept that carry on up, before Easter you’d end up looking like some MacGowan/Presley love-child.”

“Well, I was hardly planning on keeping it up forever… I was gonna quit as soon as the first tooth started to wobble.”

“Ahh, well, maybe that is fair enough, I suppose. Not to worry anyway though lad, January will be over before ye know it,” I said, consoling my more melancholy side.

Minutes later, just as the duality was dissolving beneath the soothing weight of sleep, my left eye opened and looked suspiciously towards my right.

“January will be over soon… Wishing away the days now, are we? Is this how 2024 is going to be? We are going to turn into one of those people that miss today because they are too busy looking forward to tomorrow? Well, I’ve news for ye; live your life like that and tomorrow will never come.”

“Seriously? We were just about to fall asleep. Can we not just talk about this tomorrow?”

“Nah, we can’t. I know it is late but I am making a resolution on behalf of the both of us. This year, every day will be a day worth living, and we are going to tackle them accordingly, whether it is Christmas Day or the first week back at work. No postponing happiness to the next holiday, no delaying delight until the weekend. This year, The Now is where we are going to be spending our time, not dreaming of the future or thinking of the past. Right?!”

“So one minute you’re shaming me by saying I will end up with teeth like Shane MacGowan if I don’t catch myself on and the next you are misquoting his lyrics in a hollow attempt to persuade me to live more in the moment? You’re shameless,” I said.

“Well, I am also you, so… hah,” I quipped.

Arguing with yourself is great; you always get the last word in.

Anyway, that was the last of it for the night and me and the two boys managed to get a decent night’s sleep after that.

So, to conclude, over the next 12 months, aided by a bit of meditation, the three of us are going try to dwell in the present as much as we can.

Who knows, maybe by January 2025 we will have become one; whole. Maybe one of us will have learned the sitar (à la guy in the picture). Or maybe the boys will have split and multiplied further, and I will have to ask for two pages for next January’s new year column, just so that there is space for everyone to have their say.

I’ll be back with a progress report in about a month.