New Year's Ick.

Through a long, detailed analysis (which I won't bore you with), I've confirmed that I'm the absolute last person who doesn't do anything on New Year's Eve. And by anything I'm not only referring to going out. No, if you lie like a dead man on your couch while one of those moronic programs with a ball dropping while people count down to the beginning of the New Year, then that counts in my book as actually doing something on New Year's Eve. Of course my definition of doing something isn't so strict that I count such things as breathing or sleeping. I'm referring only to acknowledgement of the New Year's Eve festivities in any way at all. I refuse to bother with it. The New Year will be hear whether I ring it in or not.

I have a recurring fantasy of getting a supersonic jet and traveling west as the New Year lurches across the globe. For a little while at least, I'd succeed in defeating the passage of time.