I’m not really into the whole New Year’s resolution thing. I think if you’re going to do a thing, just do it. Don’t wait for a convenient procrastination opportunity. Although, I’d like to qualify that with the admission that I am, if no King of the Procrastinators, at least in line to the throne. That said, I’m going to commit to some things this year, and I’m bloody well going to stick to them. If you want to bandy about labels then fine, they’re New Year’s Resolutions. Bloody hell.
Firstly, I’ve had a miserable couple of years. There have been some high points, don’t get me wrong. I have the most wonderful girlfriend and the Best Dog in the World TM, I live in a house I very much like, I now have a job which doesn’t make me want to gouge out my eyeballs with a wooden spoon, but it’s been a rocky road getting here, and we’re not quite there yet.
What was so crap? Well, I’ve been thinking about that. Was it being made redundant, eight months of unemployment and thirteen months in a fuckawful job? A bit. Was it exhaustion from a ludicrous commute? A bit. Was it exasperation that, after finally committing to getting fit, I injure my one good knee? A bit.
There was something that changed fundamentally though, over the past two-ish years and it took me a while to see it. I’ve done very little creatively. Well, that’s not true, I probably wrote about 300,000 words and finished a novel. What I’ve done almost nothing of though, is music. Since about 2005, I’ve been producing something constantly in one form or other. Since we moved from Leamington though, I’ve written two tracks. I don;t even have Ableton installed on my new laptop. I’m about to rectify that next, once I’ve finished writing this tripe.
Despite having written 300,000 words or so in two years, that’s actually quite a low word count. I’d like desperately to be able to call myself an author, but I’m just not putting in the graft. I’m going to fix this too. I’m going to aim to write at least something every day. This drivel counts too by the way. Words is words, practice is practice.
So number one is, I’m going to do more things creative. I’m going to write some music, I’m going to write some fiction, and if I find time through all of this, I’m going to do some arts.
Secondly, I’m pretty much decided that in the long term, my career is not that of an IT manager. This is a bit of a surprise to me, but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced. I like my job, most of the time. It’s fun, it’s challenging, it’s varied, it can be very rewarding. But when things are bad, they drag my mood down so low, a stick insect couldn’t limbo under it. It may sound cowardly to not want to deal with things when they get hard, but you know what? I don’t give a shit. I’m pretty sick of just grinning and bearing it. It’s a thing we Cowleys do, and frankly, it’s bollocks.
What am I going to do about it? I don’t know yet, but something. Am I going to achieve it in 2015? Probably not, but epic journeys start with a single footstep etc. Time to do some soul-searching.
Thirdly, I can’t remember the last time I went to a gig. I don’t think it was last year. WHAT THE FLIPPING JEBUS BELLS? This is utterly ridiculous. Claire and I have booked three gigs tonight in protest. I’m going to keep this up.
Fourthly, I’ve found it very easy to get stuck in a rut. Routine. Boring. Day-to-day. This manifests itself in many ways: job; veg in front of TV; take dog to same field; cook lunch and dinner from a pool of about fifteen tried and tested meals. So from this year, we’re going to cook something we’ve never cooked before at least once a week.
And finally, we’re going to save as much money as possible for a house deposit. We have a reasonable chunk, so 2015 will be the year of collecting a deposit. I’ve had enough of renting.
So there you go. If you want to call them resolutions, fine. I call it a statement of intent. I don’t want to get mired up in pit of drudgery an mundanity. The only person who can do anything about that is me. So there.