Please tell me I got here at the right time.

At 12:07 last night, I got into my car and took a long drive around Athens.  I had gone to a NYE bonfire with some close friends, but I didn't feel like drinking anything.  The evening was clear, and cold, and lots of things seemed to make sense.  I'm not one of those people who puts all their faith into a number.  January 1st started just like the 364 days that had preceded it.  But because I was on such a journey last year to find direction, there just have to be some markers I can use to feel new and feel confident.

Today is one.  I made coffee before I went to the grocery store and stocked up on some amazing ingredients.  Nothing special, though, right?  But I did it with an added swing in my step.  And when I got back home I cleaned the whole house to the soundtrack of a Martin Page album from the 1990s.  He has this song called "In the House of Stone and Light" that I used to fall asleep to when I was 12.  "It's been too long, my spirit's been at war."  Heady for a preteen, huh?  I was looking for some things then.  And I'm looking for the same things now.  I just finally understand how to get them.  Mostly by just being myself.

Some revelations: This year I will graduate with my PhD in American History.  It may not be the best dissertation anyone ever wrote.  And I may not get the best job ever.  But I'll finally have "Dr." in front of my name--just like my mother predicted when I was three years old.  I feel like there's going to be a cluster of good things to come this year if I allow myself to enjoy them.  I want to travel.  I want to start reading books again.  I want to cook, a LOT.  I just became a vegetarian.  I want to take care of my mind and my body in new ways.  Lessons I learned last year?  Leave the past in the past.  If there's a glitch in the system, try to fix it quickly.  If it breaks again, jump ship.  Some things sneak up on you.  And leave you tongue-tied.  And suddenly you spend a random hour on a Sunday thinking about how many banana slices someone likes in their cereal.

Screw it.  I'm going for it all this year.  After all, as I told my very brilliant advisor Steve (who knows all the right questions to ask at precisely the right moments) last night: my favorite number is two.