New Years Eve Reflections

    Here it is, the last few hours of 2015.  I'm not out partying like some are, nor am I celebrating like I typically do - at my grandfather's house with family, eating gumbo and shooting fireworks.  Instead, I am at home, in my sweats, on the couch with my husband, both of us reading books (err, you know, before I started writing this post).  It's quiet and cozy, and fits my state of mind.

    I find myself really emotional about 2015 being over.*  For the past few days I have even been getting choked up about it. And when people are like "yay for 2015 being over!", I'm just like "but... no. I'm not ready for a new year." It isn't about the year 2015 specifically.  There was nothing spectacular about 2015 that makes me want it to stick around.
     It's more about the passing of time. In the past, I've been excited about time passing, and looking forward to a new year and all it may hold.  But for some reason, maybe simply because I'm getting older, this year it makes me melancholy.
    Maybe it's because it's another year of being childless. Maybe it's because I have been overwhelmed with adjusting to working long hours.  Maybe I feel more adult responsibility this year than in the past few, and sometimes I just want to be a kid again. Maybe I realize that life doesn't get easier as I get older, only harder and more scary.  Maybe it's because I feel complacent.

    And maybe I'm afraid 2016 will be more of the same.

To be continued in tomorrow's post...

-MNM
 
*My husband says it's because I've been exhausted, and am just more emotional when I'm tired anyway.  He's right.