A little end of year ADHD

So what do you call it again when you just can't quite focus? You know, when you're a little distractable. Geez, it's getting hotter at night, isn't it? Ok, so maybe it's a little bit more than slightly distracted.

I think I'm having a case of Decemberitis. No jokes, folks. (Didn't mean for that to rhyme, but I will be grateful for all I get). Novemberitis came and went as of 9 days ago. Now it's time for the next step. Wow, I really feel like candy floss right now. Yip, that would be awesome!

I think it has to do with the infinitely slippery slope to the final curtain of the year. I just can't seem to get a grip on anything. I've got so much to do, and I just can't seem to get going. And talking about going, I'm inspired to think about the gas price, and that leads me to wonder why the garden service haven't dropped their prices since the price of fuel came down. Anyone else notice that?

You have to wonder why the end of the year feels like such a great big full stop though. It seems as though there won't be a chance to address issues once the drunken revellers have done that countdown and kissed in champagne flavoured embraces. It's going to be too late when that fat lady is done singing "Aulde Lang Syne".

Every year feels a little like the Y2K syndrome. Everyone seems to hold their breaths as though time itself will come to an earth-shattering halt at 1 second past midnight. And things left unfinished are not destroyed in that magical moment, no matter how much you might hope for it. No. The morning sun of January 1 rises over all the undone odds and ends of the years before. And chances are that these incomplete projects get added to a growing pile of things to do.


It's a shame, really. It's these left over bits and pieces that lead to the making of new year's resolutions. So you're still spilling your morning coffee on the gym registration form? After 5 months of having it on your kitchen counter, you add it on the New Year's Resolution List - Number 1: Join a gym. A pile of unread novels consumes valuable shelf space. You just didn't get to finishing them. Add them to the list. But make it sound fancy: Like - Number 2: I will read at least two books a month. (That should get through the pile of books next to the loo by about August.) Still not fitting into those pre-kids jeans that you just can't get yourself to toss out of your cupboard? Despite the fact that you've been out of those jeans by 3 sizes for the last eight years, you still add to the list - Number 3: Lose weight. Wouldn't it be better to say something like - Number 3: Clear out wardrobe. Accept the way things are?

Look, I'm not being a cynic here. All I'm saying is that the sun will come up again. There will be another day, and another after that, and even more thereafter. This wild race to the end of the year is a bit farcical in my mind. Why the rush to cram EVERYTHING into the last 31 days?

And does anyone else know how long a baked birthday keeps for?