Working through the dead zone between Christmas and New Year's

 

Years ago when I would plan my vacation days for the year, the first thing I would block out was the week between Christmas Day and New Year's Day. This was mostly to take advantage of the kids being home on holiday break so we could do things together and I could assemble heir toys while cleaning up the mess we had made in the living room opening presents.

Even now, with four older kids having moved out, I still like to take that week off to relax and recharge before returning to work in the midst of the cold and gray of January in Northeast Ohio.

This year, however, I've been working this week thanks to having used up all of my vacation days early.

There were a few reasons for this, the biggest of which was the week I took in March to accompany the Wickliffe Swing Band on its once-every-four-years trip to Disney World.

I wouldn't normally take a week off in March, and truth be told, I wasn't thrilled about burning a week of vacation that included a combined 40+ hours on a bus.

In retrospect, though, I'm glad I did it. It was a fun adventure, and it felt like the least I could do to give back to an organization that has given me so much over the years.

But those were the days I would normally reserve until the end of the year. Throw in the week I took in late June/early July for our family beach vacation, plus another summer week for our annual church retreat, plus the standard assortment of one-off personal days here and there for various reasons, and I found myself essentially out of PTO by September.

I'm whining about a first-world problem, of course, but it makes for an 8- to 9-month stretch between weeks off. That's a long grind, though one that's made easier this week by the fact that (a) I can work from home, and (b) most of my co-workers are on vacation right now, so it's very quiet and I'm getting a lot done.

Still, I do miss the slower, carefree days that normally make up late December for me. I can't do quite as much non-work stuff as I would like this week, though all in all I really shouldn't complain.

I will complain, of course, but I really shouldn't.

The real slog of winter begins now, but it's still going to be a great year

We here in Northeast Ohio get snow in December, and sometimes it's a lot of snow. But I never feel like "real" winter has begun until New Year's Day.

This is the point when the holidays wind down and the long, cold, gray reality of a Cleveland winter sets in. Living on the shores of Lake Erie, we will see precious little sunshine for the next few months. And in the meantime we're likely to get at least a couple of blizzards, a lot of ice, and generally sub-freezing temperatures.

Which by the way is fine. I love living here, and that kind of weather is just part of the deal. I'm not complaining at all.

In fact, I'm feeling good today. It's the start of a new year, and like every year before it, I choose to see it as a time of opportunity and possibility. I am in most ways an incurable optimist.

This is not a case of me being a Pollyanna, or at least I hope it isn't. It's simply making the deliberate choice to be excited for whatever lies ahead over the next 52 weeks.

If you think this year is going to be a good one for you, you're probably right.

And if you think 2021 is going to be a bad one for you, you're also probably right.

It's not a platitude, it's a fact: You, like most folks, are going to be about as happy as you make up your mind to be.

But you know what would make me especially happy? If you made up your mind to grab a shovel and help clear out my driveway the next time Mother Nature dumps a bunch of the fluffy white stuff on it.

I choose to believe snow is beautiful. I also choose to believe it's even more beautiful when it doesn't get in the way of me backing my car out of the garage.

All is quiet on New Year's Day

I find this to be one of the stranger holidays (New Year's Day, I mean). For a few reasons, I guess:

• For one thing, the real celebration happened last night. New Year's Day itself just kind of feels anticlimactic. We were excited for the new year last night, we celebrated when the ball dropped, and now...well, I'm just not as jacked up about it. The new year is here. Hooray.
• Also, it has been exactly one week since Christmas. And Christmas is the absolute king of holidays. Having another holiday just seven days later, and one for which it's not quite clear exactly what you're supposed to do, makes New Year's Day really pale in comparison.
• There's also the fact that my family doesn't have any New Year's Day traditions. No special dinner or anything. We just sort of...exist. The winter school break is winding down, we're still cleaning up from Christmas, and we generally don't have any plans.

Well, actually, I guess I do have one personal tradition: I always go for a run the morning of New Year's Day, whether it's a scheduled running day for me or not. And when I do this, I always (always) listen to U2's "New Year's Day" as I run. It's a good song, and the mood of it fits my concept of what New Year's Day represents (or maybe I've fit my concept of New Year's Day to the song...I'm not sure).

Anyway, it's 2016 now, and you and I are still getting together a few times a week in the little corner of cyberspace occupied by this blog. I appreciate that. Seriously, I really appreciate that. You're a busy person. You have lots of things to do and lots of choices to make when it comes to how you spend your time. And many of you choose to read my little posts every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, so thank you. That's a very nice thing for you to do.

And happy new year. Whatever that's supposed to mean today.