“Um, I’d like to read more. Like, to read every day. Maybe to read 50 pages of academia every day.”
We continue eating…
“Or, you know what? I’d like to work out. I’d like to become active.
But not just active. You know what, I’d like to become politically active. I’d like to find something I care about this year and become politically active about it. And not just signing petitions either. Going to protests and, I don’t know, writing letters.”
My husband helpfully replies – “Well, you could find something you want to change and try to change it. You know, pick something you care about, something manageable-”
“Yeah…” I reply. “Or you know, just become more politically active. And I’d also like to write a play this year. Or a novel maybe, or a screenplay. I’d like to write a big thing.”
We continue eating. Some chat ensues. We pay the bill. We start walking to the party.
“And I’d like to learn a new skill.”
“Any skill. Woodworking. Arabic. Sewing.”
The bridge across the river is speckled with voices celebrating, and the memory of lights shimmering on the water below. We approach the end of the bridge and wait at the light to cross.
“You know what else I’d like to do? Volunteer.”
“You’ve said a lot of things so far. Why not just pick one and stick to it?”
“Because I’m brainstorming! I don’t have to commit to anything until midnight.”
January 1st, 2013 – Around 1pm, a hangover. A Paul Simon lyric inexplicably stuck in my head. “The cool cool river, the wide wide ocean.” A list of things to do that day. In coming days. In general. And the notion that last night I nearly promised something. Is it ever too late to promise something?