I vaguely remember the dawn of the new millennium, I’m going to claim it was due to a heavy cold but being twenty at the time my memory degradation was more self-inflicted. I don’t remember going out for New Year’s Eve since then, and not because of alcohol.
I think that was the last occasion I revelled in the changing of the calendar, not that I really went party crazy before then. Instead of getting pickled I prefer to watch the fireworks and have a cheap glass of whiskey, and that is just what I will do tonight (without the gunpowder).
Safely tucked up in the warm, television on. No queues, no having to hold it in because there are no toilets, no panic about how to get home. Even better than that is I get to curl up in the warm with a last cup of tea of 2020 and Mrs V.
How can there not be anything better than that? I have no idea why so many people make the fuss over New Year’s Eve. I don’t remember it being such a bit of an important event in the past. Did it all start with 2000 because now every major city has to have a massive fireworks display.
Yes, I’ve wanted to be in Times Square, but the New Yorkers in my life have told me that is never going to happen. Stand out in the cold NY weather for twelve hours with no toilet, it worries me how people’s feet may stay warm.
No, I would much rather be indoors (and with functioning plumbing) with someone I know I can kiss at midnight. I spent too many years fretting about if I would get a peck on the cheek to be out looking for others to smooch. I have my own set of lips to kiss at home.
I will now welcome 2021 in the same style that I welcome every new day, safe at home with those I love. Not only that, but I would have it no other way.