My friends and I usually make it a goal to show up at my place for New Year's Day, watch the winter classic, and have a few drinks (read as: leftovers). There's nothing quite like yelling at hockey players while eating home-made chili.
It's strangely therapeutic. Sort of like listening to Radiohead.
This year, though, I'm stuck working. Which seems very, very wrong. In fact, I can't even think of a new year's day in the past in which I've done anything resembling working. I mean, there was that time I helped move a couch, but that was only so I could get the bottle opener that somebody had dropped underneath it.
New Year's Day is about lazing about while simultaneously making false promises about how you're going to be "More active this year, I swear." It's not about selling electronics to people.
Seriously, who comes in to Future Shop on New Year's Day? Who is so hard up for electronics that they're going to spend the laziest day of the year trying to save five dollars on a frigging iPod?
My point it, only chumps would be in Future Shop on New Year's Day. Unfortunately, I'm one of those chumps.
At least I'm not one of those chumps who's celebrating his 500th post on his blog.