Happy Tuesday Eve

It's here again, seemingly much sooner than it came last time. I'm talking about New Year's Eve, which will be followed by New Year's Day tomorrow if all goes as expected. (You never know.) As usual, the newspapers are filled with lists of what's to come and what's over, and resolutions and all that other filler they stick between the ads. Ditto the Internet, with stories popping up about the end of 2018 and the start of 2019. One was about  "The 20 Hairstyles That Won't Make the Cut Next Year." I did not click for fear that mine would be on the list and then what would I do?

Coming hairstyles in 2019. (Don't blame me, I just report the news.)

The sad and happy truth is that when it comes to life, it's all one day! We break it into bite-sized pieces by falling asleep when it gets dark outside and waking up with the light, and calling that a new day. But really, if it's so damn new, how come you wake up in the same pajamas you wore to bed the night before? Anyway, just a thought.

Today is called Monday so I took all the pills in the Monday section of my pill holder. Tomorrow I'll take the ones in the Tuesday section. If tomorrow were Thursday and the following day were Sunday, that would be new! I could get behind that. But no, it will be Tuesday. But before it is I have to go to a big party tonight and shout "happy new year" at midnight, and potentially kiss strangers.

I don't get it. I'm not proud that I don't get it. I wish I got it. But I don't.

Let's get real: tomorrow will not bring magic. The only change in my life will be writing 2019 on my checks and hanging on hold with my insurance company trying to fix the mess caused by those new benefits cards they issued, making the one I have for last year which paid for all my prescriptions null and void.