“Back to life, back to reality…”

Remember that song? Always liked that one. Soul II Soul, that was.

Back to work for me tomorrow. I’m usually more reflective on New Year’s Day, but the return to adulthood just one day later is killing that vibe. I’ll have to remember that for future vacation planning.

Few of my bowl teams cooperated today. Arkansas predictably stunk up the Cotton Bowl, and Florida lost a shootout with Michigan. Illinois was a play and a half from closing USC’s lead to 21-17 in the Rose Bowl, but turned it over five yards from the end zone instead, and never recovered. And now the Sugar Bowl’s out of hand. I hoped that would be a good game, but Hawaii is hopelessly outmanned.

Melanie got me BioShock for Christmas. It’s bizarre. You’re in a plane crash over the ocean, and you swim to a lighthouse that contains a bathysphere. You take it down to an underwater art deco city called Rapture, which seems to have been founded by a Randian. Something has Gone Very Wrong, and I’m not sure what yet. It’s slickly done and engaging. I’m looking forward to it.

It will have to come after little boys’ bedtimes, though. One of the first things I had to do was beat the shit out of a bloody mutant with a pipe wrench.

2008 is up as the first calendar year since 2000 that I can make cigarette-free. Come on, me. I’ve had an occasional slip since my last post on the topic, but as of now I’m 100% compliant for three weeks.

Apart from towing that line, the closest thing I have to a new year’s resolution is to reclaim the ground I lost on stress management last year. I fell into some well-worn wagon tracks of excessive tension a little too often in 2007. I need to remember that I get to choose my reactions. (There are a number of corollaries, but that’s the umbrella statement that will cover most of them.)

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