Last night I had my first official anxious thought of 2009. Although, since it was only about 11:50pm, I guess it was still 2008. I'll just let the rules bend a little on this one.
I had spent most of 2008, really, truly enjoying writing the year out: "2-0-0-8". Oh the intense satisfaction it brought me as I crafted a graceful, swan-like two, followed by some cute stylized zeros and one big, fat snowman-ish eight. You know, the awesome kind of eight, where the top circle is about a third smaller than the bottom circle?
The only thing I can equate it to, is that deep happiness that comes when you successfully find the middle letter in words around you. Or you count the number of eyelet holes in all of the shoes you own. It's like needing to know that the ice cube trays are full and you go, and you look, and sure enough, they are, because you would never forget. And you see that there are still 36 cubes. Just waiting. Just the way it should be.
Ahhhhhhh......2-0-0-8. I loved you. But 2-0-0-9, this is where my anxiety begins. I was laying in bed last night, watching "Russian Roswell" on the History channel and it dawned on me. I can't write a number 9 nearly as well as I can write an 8, and it's no fun, it's going to suck! Nobody can write a 9 as gracefully as an 8 I bet. And regardless, there is no satisfaction in the lines of a 9, as in an 8. This really blows. So to quell my worry, as I finally drifted off to sleep a little past 2:00am, I promised myself that January would be a month of intensive practice. 9-9-9-9, I will perfect the number 9. I will make it my own. "2-0-0-9 will never look so good!", I tell myself.
I suppose in the end, even if I fail and there are 365 days of disjointed 9 hell, at least, AT LEAST I know that 2010 with be AMAZING. Graceful, swan-like two, one juicy, stylized zero, a straight as a stick one, juuuust a tiny bit taller than the zero before, and one more, satisfyingly juicy, stylized zero.
Now THAT is what I call a perfect year!