There’s something about January that throws me off. Something that gets shed as the years change hands that leaks into my rhythm, my flow of progress and routine.
Perhaps it stems from not working, and yet not Going Somewhere, for the longest hour of time each year. More time to stew in the winter doldrums after the major holiday which is typically a bastion of good tidings and memories.
To fall off, but not to lose, is typically the goal. Well, not goal, but realistic aim and expectation. There will be bumps but the road moves ever forward.
I'll be on it again.
It'll just be a bit.