in media res

I really enjoy the idea of the new year and its metaphorical associations to rebirth and second chances, I do. However, the following have bereft me of any sustainable New Year’s goodwill and positive energy:

spending every day at the hospital visiting my mom;

succumbing to the anxiety and medical uncertainties that attend the above;

minding my pseudo-invalid 26-year-old brother and attempting to motivate him towards being more than a typical WoW stereotype (no license, no job, no ____) (though, it’s worth noting, he doesn’t play WoW);

being behind on planning spring courses;

not having slept soundly or restfully since 10 December;

having developed a season-change-induced morning-mucous-filled throat (that, admittedly, has pushed me towards enjoying tea again);

having developed some sort of eyelash pimple/stye that I can’t tweeze out because I can’t wear glasses, close one eye, and see it plainly enough simultaneously to make that happen;

acknowledging a nagging notion that despite all the best attempts, Christmas was not really Christmas this year;

feeling somewhat glum that I wasn’t able to put more thought/time into my Secret Santa present (sorry, C.);

noting a feeling I can’t name but might best be referred to as a “nagging knowing-nothing about how I feel at any given moment”;

remembering that I have a marathon to run in 8 days’ time that I’ve yet to adequately train for;

etc.;

ad nauseum;

but it’s worth noting, too, that I’m still pretty upbeat somehow. Go figure.