New Year, New Me.

I am so sick and tired of hearing “New Year, New Me.”

Every.

Single.

Year.

What do these people think is magically going to happen in the New Year that did not happen before?

If you are a sloth all of 2019, you will not wake up on January 1^st, 2020, with newfound energy to organize every single room in your house. And even if you do, you will probably run out of that energy before noon. If you eat 4,000 calories a day throughout the year of 2019, you will not successfully decrease and maintain your diet by half overnight. If you have not been to the gym even once in your life, the chances of you making it your church on January 1^st are slim to none.

One final scroll through Facebook’s feed assured me that I was not missing out on anything other than superficial lies and fake happiness. Tonight is like any other night. We do not celebrate when a new month rolls around, so why is a new year so special? I put my phone to the side, powered off my work computer, and picked up my green winter jacket from the hanger standing in the corner. After putting on the coat, gloves, a hat, a scarf, and changing into snow boots, I was finally ready to face the cold and the snow outside. Winters in Minnesota can get pretty mean.

After only a couple of steps, I realized that I was not totally alright with spending New Year’s Eve on my own. It must have been the fresh air that made me rethink things. It was a little bit of a conundrum because I did not want to be alone, but I also did not want to go to any of the parties to which I was invited. Thinking must slow my walking down because the bus, for which I was sure I would have to wait, ended up pulling into the stop bay and driving away before I could cross the street. It sped off into the distance. I wished that it would drive that fast when I was on it. Instead, it usually moves in the lightning speed of a snail.

A quick check of the bus app revealed that the next bus would not arrive at that stop for at least 35 minutes. One could freeze standing still for so long in this weather. The razor-sharp wind cut right through me, making me check that I indeed put a jacket on. On top of that, it felt like there were tiny ice cubes forming around my toes. Choosing to fight to live was a no brainer since the alternative was a sure death. Yes, I do realize I can be dramatic at times.

Putting one foot in front of the other, I walked in the direction of my home, praying that the slippery sidewalk would not get the best of me. A block at night, during winter, seems to span for more than a mile. You keep on walking, and your target is not getting any closer. I pulled out my phone and plugged in my earphones to put on some upbeat music and escape to a much warmer place. Eyes closed for a brief moment, I felt my shoulders relax as my body swayed to the Beach Boys. That bliss only lasted for a minute or two. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was still on the same street block as I was when I turned on the music. Aside from the traffic noise, there was silence. No sound was coming through my earphones. A quick look at the phone revealed that it was dead. By checking social media all day long, I made it run out of battery juice. When it rains, it pours, huh? I shook my head in disbelief and marched on.

By the time I traversed half of the second city block, I had needed a break. Luckily, I saw a café which I thought would be a great place to defrost. As I waited for my chai latte, I took a look around the place, which turned out to have a built-in bookstore. Curious about the contents of the shelves, I walked towards them. Before I knew it, I was lost in a world of books. Paperback and hardcover. Fiction and non-fiction. Books for all sorts of ages. How could I not have known about this place before? I guess walking in the dead of winter was not ALL that bad.

Books are my favorite kind of company. If I was to find a great book, I could ease my troubled mind and not worry about being alone on New Year’s Eve. When you pick up an interesting read, the characters become your best friends, and their neighborhood becomes your backyard. Times when I was sick and could not go to school flashed before my eyes. I would not be sad that I could not see my friends as long as a pile of books was within my reach.

Picking a single book seemed to be an impossible feat. I walked down the aisle, hoping that one would just jump out at me. And then I saw it. On a separate shelf, there was a book advertised as the “Café’s pick of the day.” The cover was crimson red, and from afar, it looked like it could be a murder mystery. Once I came closer, I noticed the title: “Become the life of the party.” It was not a murder mystery. Instead, it was a self-help book. I scoffed at the ridiculousness of the title.

My name was called out, and so I placed the book back on the shelf, unwilling to pick it up once it failed to stay upward, and walked towards the café’s counter. I inhaled the aroma of my drink and took a sip. Hot. Oh, so hot. I was about to walk back outside when the book popped back into my head.

“Become the life of the party.”

I walked back up to it and picked it up. The blurb promised that the book would turn even the most anti-social person into a social butterfly. Eh, why not? I shrugged my shoulders and walked to the register with the book in hand. New Year, New Me.