Probably the best thing about January can be summed up in two words: low expectations. It’s not really a month anyone looks forward to with great anticipation, unless it’s because you also hate December (and possibly November). Aside from the two days of cockeyed optimism spurred by your ill-conceived resolutions, most people go into January just hoping to get through it. That’s either a feature or a bug, depending on how you look at it.
Since my expectations for January were positively rock-bottom this year, it’s turned out pretty decent. I’ve maintained some healthy new habits for a few weeks. Aside from a couple of bad days, my anxiety and depression haven’t kicked my butt like they typically do this time of year.
I finished a short story (not quite flash, but not much longer) and submitted it.
I have avoided doing anything catastrophically stupid in either the job I’m leaving, or the job I’m starting.
I scored paperback copies of Spindle’s End by Robin McKinley and Port Eternity by CJ Cherry at the used bookstore, which is exciting because I loved McKinley’s Sunshine and also: SLEEPING BEAUTY. I’ve been wanting to read Cherry since Downbelow Station was a Sword and Laser pick, and it’s basically KING ARTHUR IN A SPACE OPERA, so what’s not to like about that? I’ll probably end up reviewing both soon.
So, with a week left to go, it’s looking like I will get through January in better shape than I usually do, which isn’t saying much but again – perspective, people.