Tomorrow will be a whole new year. But just like always, you throw a drop cloth over the toilet to paint the bathroom, and after you're all done painting you uncover the toilet only to find that it still needs to be cleaned.
Shit doesn't just go away with the New Year celebration, no matter how much whoopin' and hollerin' and drinkin' and noisemakers and funny glasses and pointy hats and fireworks and kisses and aulde lang syne goes on the night before. Nothing changes on its own. It's another day. After the hangover fog clears, what was there yesterday is still there on January 1st.
Sure, there is renewed outlook and that deep breath of optimism, along with half the country hung over and a higher percentage of the population in jail.
The resolutions, the diets, the nicotine withdrawals, the new gym memberships, the first baby of 2010 born at 12:02 Eastern Standard Time, the new date on the checks; that can all start once again. The world can keep on a-turnin'.
So Happy New Year, best wishes, all that shit.

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