I get more done between November and December than I do in the other 10 months of the year. There’s something about the prospect of looking over the productivity of the past year, come December 31st, to light a fire under my yoga-pants-wearing, reality-TV-watching arse.
And the whole “time flies” cliché doesn’t sting as much when I can look back on a year (two months) full of accomplishments, new memories, and a heftier bank account (wait, that rarely happens for me — let’s change that to “an expanded heart.”)
Most people are so “on it” they’re jumping on it come January, what with all the New Year’s Resolution hoopla. But I’m so wiped out by the time the New Year rolls around that I pretty much write January off to detoxing from butter, chocolate, and all forms of potatoes. I need to fill my achievement coffer before January 1st.