I've had a little sleep and am feeling much less like the chick I was yesterday. I still don't think New Year's is the best holiday ever, but I'm less inclined to hold it down and punch it until it cries. I think I'm just going through another period of feeling overwhelmed. I got a lot of that crap under control last year (HA! New Year's lets me say "last year" for something only months ago... that's a plus for New Year's!) but with the money crap getting more acute, I think that part of me is going insane again.
And then there's all this body image stuff I can't find my way around. A friend of mine recently named her spare tire tummy Phoebe, in attempts to make friends with it or at least not hate it so damn much. I'm not ready to be so accepting of my own form, but also haven't been willing to make the dramatic changes needed to fix it. Can't live with it, can't seem to do a damn thing about it.
So last night I took a couple hundred books off our massive shelves in the living room and culled out everything we're not going to read again. So far I've pulled about 150 books and still have several shelves to go. I think that I need to do this kind of thing all over the house, keeping only those items we use and love. Would it be totally hippie of me to think all this stuff has bits of me wrapped up in it and unless I let some of it go I'll only become more fragmented? No? Yes? Because that's how it feels. I'm starting to truly understand that possessions don't always enrich us. I'm starting to really believe that I cannot be whole with all this stuff cluttering my life. I want to systematically empty each room and only put back a few chosen items. I want to finally let go of the boxes under the house we haven't looked at in five years.
Of course, what if I do all that and feel exactly the same? Well, at least if we do have to move, it'll be much easier!
Also? I'm thinking we should rename January to "that month where we purge crap and promise to exercise".