01/01/07

Don't know about you, but I've screwed it up already. 2007 isn't even out of the package yet, but it's smudged and little crumpled, already a little worse for wear. Oh, nearly all of its potential is still there, but it's going to take a more forgiving eye to find it, and a more tolerant attitude, too. Meanwhile, 2006 looks a little dirty at the hem, a little diminished by the recent company it keeps. Life, Chapter 37.5.

I'm not here to dish the dirt but to begin to sweep it away before we track it all over the place. I've never been that good with a broom and dustpan; traces of what came before always seem to lurk in the corners. At times like these, though, that failing seems appropriate. Wish as I might, the past won't disappear. January 1, 2007 will always mean more than New Year's Day. And I will always be sorry.