Anno Domini MMXV!

Another Gregorian calendar comes to a close.  Father Time continues to trudge with an endzone celebration just hours away. Baby New Year will be there to gaze upon the Ball dropping in Times Square, and I have yet to establish a habitual effort to become a real blogger.  Go figure.

I suppose one is expected, or obligated, even, to look back at the latest trip around the sun to reflect upon one’s happenings, doings, and whatnot.  I have a hard enough time remembering what I had for lunch yesterday, let alone what mistakes I may have made over 300 days ago.  I usually have to make adjustments and move on.  Focusing on past mistakes is a way for some people to continually correct past poor behavior or strive to repeat the successes which came to be.  Unfortunately for me, I’m unable to do so without great and seemingly super-human effort.

This. All day.

This. All day.

Should I blame my short-term memory loss (read: lack of ambition, possibly) on self-prescribed marijuana use in my youth, or negligent and unconventional “parental units” (wink to by buddy, John), or would it be more intellectually honest to assign blame on the self (products of our environment or predestined)?  The lack of desire to remember bad decisions also disallows me to have the wonderful memories of the good decisions.  Pictures and stories told by a peer help, but the moments of glee and pure exhilaration are lost forever (or extremely difficult to recall) for my type.  The ease in which I can forget or “drop” something, not hold a grudge, perhaps, is nothing I recall purposely desiring.  I’ve achieved this without blinking an eye, though.  It was easier than tying my shoes (I don’t tie my shoes unless they somehow become untied – they’re just loose enough to slip my hoof in).

Of course this isn’t something to bloviate on.  It’s a fault, isn’t it?  To not retain the moral beatitude of self-discipline and urgent responsibility is reprehensible to many and seemingly plausible to others.  Or, so I’ve heard (loudly, at times).  Would it be safe to say that I’ve never “grown up?”  I could give you a quick short list of people who’d gladly chime in with a hearty response.

To say that I’m totally irresponsible and lacking of ambition would be a fair stretch.  We all have something buried deep down inside that begs to be addressed yet somehow never quite make it to the surface.  Some of us have been putting off building that deck for months, if not years.  Some of us haven’t finished school because there “isn’t any time.”  There are many of you that burden yourself with many projects that never fully come to fruition.  A lot of those types find solace and pride in keeping many irons in the fire.  To question their devotion to complete all outlined tasks would be to question the Pope’s devotion to Catholicism.  I mentioned earlier that great pride and internal solace is derived fromt the belief that there are, “too many things to be done,” and, “by golly, I’ll get ’em done!  You wait and see!”  These folks are admired by some, confusing to others, and dismissed as folly by a few.  Luckily, though, these people exist.  Could you imagine a world where there were a lot more like me, and a lot less of them?

But that isn’t my point, really.  I’m reflecting.  See?  I guess I actually do remember some of my (annual) failures and cause of criticism.

Feel free to critique si opus sit.

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