2009

I might have celebrated the ending of 2008 a few days ago, but it is only really tomorrow that 2009 begins for me. That is when I go back to school, begin my new job and start acting responsible again. In a number of ways it’s about bloody time. My irresponsible behaviour cost me a phone, a book, a great deal of cash, a community card and quite a few brain cells.

But I’m going to try and not be quite as responsible as I was being last year. There being responsible was leaking over into being unhappy. It wasn’t good for me. I am – truth be told – playful and if I don’t play, I can’t be happy. Apparently it shows. In the last two weeks I’ve met a lot of people who’ve told me, ‘You were so reserved before. I like you better this way.’ And well they should. Happy people are likable people.

The trick is to strike a balance. I have to find a way to not play too much and not work too much. The result is that both will be better. I will not play with guilt and I will not work with a heavy heart.

But then I’ve always known I tend to go overboard. I go for it hard, because I know that ultimately it’s easier to take your foot of the throttle later, than to give it more gas. After all, the first impression is ultimately the anchorage point from which all further personality shifts are made. Better to be known for being too serious than not being serious enough, right?

Once a goof, always a goof.

But doesn’t that then beg the statement, once a bore, always a bore?

After all, you can never prove that you’re a great worker if nobody invites you to work and you can never prove that you’re a great partier if nobody invites you to parties.

I mean, truth be told the only reason that I ended up partying with a great crew was because I had my history of partying behind me. Through that a friend came down from to party new-years here and I met a girl who had been informed that I was a good one to party with (I think before these two weeks came along she might have been wondering if she’d been lied to). Without those folks I suspect my holidays would have been a great deal lamer.

And a lame party is like a dead-end job – you do it only because you’ve got no alternative.