Happy New Year!

I was chatting with Another DC Lawyer briefly yesterday, and she asked how I felt about my year off, because in my last reflective post I seemed a little torn. And that's just poor writing on my part because I have LOVED my year off. Yes, I wish I'd had an epiphany about what I want to do with my life, and yes I wish I'd changed a little more than perhaps I have, and yes I wish I'd done more, but those are thoughts I have every year at this time. There is no doubt in my mind that this was the right decision for me, and that if I'd stayed where I was, I would have had a year of different pleasures, but the same regrets and more besides. Hell, I haven't once in the last 12 months felt the need for SSRIs or seriously considered spending $500 and four hours a week to have a professional examine my neuroses, so from that one objective standard, I did a hell of a lot better in 2007 than I did in 2006.

I don't make New Year's resolutions, because I'm just not very resolute, and I've found that January 1st doesn't change that. But, I've decided that 2008 will be the year of 12 aspirations. I'm not going to make any big grand pronouncements. 2008 is not going to be the year I "eat fewer cookies" or "get in shape" or "figure out my goddamned future already." Well, I might do any or all of those things, but I'm sure as hell not going to set my self up for failure by resolving to attempt them. Instead, I aspire, on the first day of each month of 2008, to choose one discrete, easily identifiable, objectively certifiable, goal to aspire to for that month and that month only. I hereby tell the world (or the 5 people who read this blog, hi guys, thanks for sticking with me!) that my January aspiration is to actually follow the BarBri study schedule. Because I haven't been. At all. And it would be horrifyingly embarassing to fail the Idaho bar exam. That would not be an ideal beginning to 2008.

Well. I guess I should go read a little Convisor Mini Review then shouldn't I?

Current Temperature: -11. (My fingers and nose are actually numb. The temperature IN THE HOUSE is only 49. Gah. Thank god this is supposed to be a snowy winter and not a cold one. "Cold" in this part of the world being -20 or lower.)

Merry Christmas!

I've finally finished wrapping gifts, and I've unwrapped the ones addressed to me, and now I'm sitting in my old wool bathrobe in front of the fire watching Sugar try and fit in a box half her size while Freckles chases scraps of ribbon and tries to kill some paper with her teeth and claws. It's all very peaceful.

Unlike last year, I will be spending the rest of Christmas day with family (fingers crossed). Even though it means everyone will have to wait for me, I'm not starting until ths sun is up. Rain on the 23rd followed by a freeze last night has turned the driveway into a solid sheet of ice. So . . . I will be installing chains, by myself, on my tires before I make the attempt, and then taking them off, also by myself, when I safely (fingers crossed) reach the bottom.

I hope you all had a really lovely holiday.

One Year

December 22 was the anniversary of my last day as a lawyer, and even though I haven't written about it, I've been thinking about it a lot. I really thought more would have changed in this year. I thought I would have found a purpose. I thought I would have a plan by now. But I don't. After a really lovely, lazy year, I'm still me. Lazy and purposeless and floating through the days in a haze of denial. My hair has more gray. I have two cats instead of one. Distressingly, I think both my pores and my thighs have gotten larger. I've been to SE Asia and read a lot of books and learned how to put mud on drywall. But shouldn't I have done something, learned something, well, grander? Wasn't I supposed to be working on myself? Designing a life?

The bottom line of my savings account is getting very close to the number I told myself would mark the end of this lark, the signal to get serious and get a real job. I know I want to stay in Idaho. I guess that's progress. I'm studying for the Idaho bar, but I still don't really want to be a lawyer, and I honestly don't know if I'll be able to find a job as one. Or any job that pays more than $10/hour when it comes to that. It's not like I'm going out into a great economy. And now I have a big old gap in my resume. It's Christmas Eve and my year is over, but I'm still holding on to it. I'm not ready to let it go. I've loved it too much. Even if it wasn't quite what I imagined.

No Snowman

In case you were curious. Instead I shoveled snow. And shoveled snow. And then? I shoveled some more snow. I don't think I'll be able to pick up so much as a paperclip at work tomorrow. Winter is really healthy. Except for all that shortbread.

Can you see my driveway? Yeah, me neither.

Yesterday, with 6 inches of snow in the driveway, and the flakes falling steadily, I called my boss to let her know that I might not be able to make it in to work today. And then, last night, I heard my neighbor plowing the drive and thought "FOILED!" But that was premature. Becaue I woke up this morning to another 6 inches of fresh snow. And even after someone plows again, I'll have to spend an hour or so digging out the few feet between my car and the area the plow can reach . . . so I'm snowed in. All official like. Yippee!! I really wish I had a sled, or some cross country skis, or snow shoes. I want to bundle up, and go outside and play. I might have to build a snowman or something.

Um . . .yeah. Well.

Remember how on Monday I was so pleased about not being stuck in a snow bank? Well, on Tuesday that little chicken came home to roost but good. Oh, I didn't get stuck in a snow bank. It was better than that.

I was coming home for a little trip to the Post Office and my friendly neighborhood bakery (where I read Contracts and tried not to kill myself from boredom) when, while backing up the final twenty yards of my driveway, in the snow, I sort of . . . drove off the driveway and into the field. Oops! Yeah. I didn't slide off the driveway as I first reported to my mom while I was sitting in the car, thinking "Oh Shit". Oh no. On closer inspection, I realized I didn't turn enough, and just backed straight off the road. In my own defense, everything was white, and it was snowing, and who the hell has depth perception in those conditions? But. Still. I drove off my driveway. After I'd waded up to the house and called AAA, one of those awesome neighbors of mine called to ask if I was stuck, then told me to cancel that AAA bat signal of distress, and pulled me back on the road with his truck. He then traffic directed me all the way back up my driveway and into my carport because clearly I can't be trusted to do it myself.

Needless to say, the whole incident left me feeling a little STUPID and like I never wanted to leave the house (in my car) again. Or at least not until this snow is gone. I had to mask my feelings of incompetence through brisk employment of that snazzy new snow shovel on my porch and the path to the wood pile. It made me feel a little better.

We've gotten at least another 5 inches of snow since I got pulled out of the snowbank (meaning, I'm really getting my money's worth out of that shovel). And this afternoon, after a scintillating three hours of sitting on my butt listening to a Contracts lecture on my ipod, I went for a little walk in the lightly falling snow. Look at the little Santa hat on the grave marker! How festive!(Those are fox tracks in the photo by the way.) I am absolutely loving this snow. (Caveat: When I'm not driving off my driveway.) We're supposed to get another 4-6 inches of snow tonight, and then a few more inches tomorrow. Which is all great, except I'm supposed to work tomorrow. And . . . I still am not over this little trauma of driving off my driveway. And seriously. I don't ever want to leave the house again. It would be wrong to call in "sick", right?

I finally have a snow shovel!

Today I had my first experience with a car stuck in a snowbank. Thankfully it wasn't mine. I woke up this morning to four inches of fresh snow and the threat from weather.com that "this is just the beginning because there are storms piled on storms and holy hell stock up on canned goods because the end is nigh!" Or something like that. I figured with as much as a foot of snow forecast for the next two days, it might be about damn time for me to buy a snow shovel.

So I eased my car down the driveway and into town. I picked up some groceries, then poked on down to the hardware store where I spent some time staring in complete confusion at the 50 different shapes and sizes of snow shovel on offer (they're two aisles down from the cookie sheets in case you're curious) finally grabbed one that looked like it was sort of in the middle of the pack shape and size wise and made a quick stop at the spa (closed on Monday) to get directions to this thing I'm supposed to be going to tonight.

And found Bethanie. Who had gone to our bosses' Christmas party the night before (I had an attack of social anxiety lameness, not to mention irrational terror of the copious amounts of drinking everyone had kept reminding me to expect and had stayed home in my pyjamas watching a marathon of Dirty Sexy Money with Sugar and Freckles. Yes. I am COOL.) and had managed to get her car stuck (in that snowbank I mentioned) on her way down the mountain from our bosses' bachanal. Oops. Armed with a new snow shovel and delusions of my own competence, I offered to take Bethanie back to her car and see if we couldn't get it out of the snowbank our own damn selves. Yeah. We couldn't. Mostly we stared at it. And for some reason the power of our hopes and wishes did nothing to move that damn car. So we called our boss. And he sucked up what was undoubtedly, from all reports, a killer hangover, and like the hip father figure he totally is, he met us in his Astro Van and pulled Bethanie's poor little car out of the snowbank.

And I stood there shivering, with wet feet, thinking . . . I'm really really glad I didn't go to that party. Because, while I really like the people who I knew would be there, I don't really drink much any more. (To be fair, other than a brief period in law school, I never really have. And certainly not when there's any chance I might have to drive.) And is it really fun to be sober around fun drunk people who you know will be getting behind a wheel? I have to say I come down on the side of "no". BUT this thing I'm going to tonight? Isn't so much a party. It's a bunch of women getting together to exchange cookies and maybe drink a hot toddy. It's a gathering. And I love gatherings. Especially with dessert. See, I'm not anti-social, I'm just 80.