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  • Finally relaxing on the rug in the living room, the kids in bed, the dishes done, and having once again determined there is nothing on TV, my wife and I decide we should spend the evening talking to each other. We suddenly realise the year is almost ended. My wife says we shouldn't just make new year's resolutions, we should also look back on the year and reflect on the good things that have happened, like our achievements and what we've learned. You know, the good things. You go first, she says. I reply that I don't really like looking back, because it fills me with regret and embarrassment at all the poor decisions and wasted time and unseized moments and overthinking that characterises my life. She says, how did you just make this about your issues?

    The course of some people's lives is like a shiny path running steady and true up the mountain that is life. It is a path marked by ever more impressive successes, good times and great views. The people of these paths either know what they want and look good getting it too, or, I don't know, are just blessed to fall on their feet forever or something. I have no idea how to be one of those people. My path, from above, looks drunk. It's the trail of a disoriented ant. Faltering into gullies, disappearing into dark woods, circling back upon itself, it looks like I'm trying to avoid being followed. That's my path.

    I've never stuck to anything.
    You've stuck to me, she counters.
    That's true.
    Ten years, she says. That's quite an achievement, especially given how annoying you are.


    (Photo courtesy of wikimedia & John S Turner)
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