Countdown to 2020
Last year, I didn’t write down a list of TODOs for 2019 because I knew most of the wishes were just going to appear in New Year’s resolution for 2020 again. Copying and pasting are no fun. Frustration sucks. So I pondered for a few days and wrote one sentence before the clock went past eleven-fifty-nine: seize every chance.
Reading it out, hmm, I feel the excitement in it vaporized as a year went by. Also, it’s unclear what wishes I put into these three words. But hey, this is not a bad thing. Bullet points are so specific that they punch in my face with my failure ruthlessly. This line didn’t shatter my confidence instantly, so I got a chance to ask myself: did I seize every chance?
I didn’t. I missed chances to be happier and healthier. I could’ve left the not-so-urgent work for tomorrow, but I stayed up late because of the “I can complete it in 20 minutes” curse. I could’ve stretched more often, but I sat for too long for work I mentioned in the last sentence. I could’ve had much tastier Brussels sprouts, but I skipped the advice “don’t let them be watery” and poured balsamic vinegar into the baking pan.
And I could’ve written more. Memory fades, slowly but surely. Every piece of writing takes a snapshot of me the moment it was written. If my computer and cloud drives don’t fail me(please don’t), I’ll be able to see the older version of myself now and then. Once, I found my old diary between stacks of dusty books. My handwriting 5 years ago was awful. On the last page, I was surprised to see some comments from 3 years ago and 2 years ago. Then it becomes a routine for me to leave some comments or updates on this diary whenever I think of it. This happens rarely since I’m occupied by my ongoing life. But every time I hold that notebook, the feeling that time slips through my fingers is so real.
All old troubles seem trivial, and new troubles will become old eventually. This calms me down.