Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

With the approach of every new year, I have traditionally formulated a list of all the things I want to change about myself. I’m going to be more outgoing. I’m going to spend less time on the computer. I’m going to lose weight. I’m going to exercise more. I’ve often thought of the new year as the perfect time to do an extreme makeover of myself, to come up with J.P. v2005 or whatever and do a complete re-imaging.

This year I have no desire to do that. It’s the first time in my adult life that I’ve felt this way.

Oh, I have things that I want to do, but I don’t feel the pressing need to correct any perceived faults or to better myself to a pre-conceived image of how I should be, rather than how I am.

Perhaps this is the first time in a long time that I’ve been happy with the way I am.

I don’t think I come off as too repulsive when I meet people face to face or interact with others. I’m no longer afraid to keep things that bother me to myself. I’m no longer afraid to joke with strangers in a public space. I’m no longer constantly measuring myself to the standard of “will they like me” or “do they think I am weird.” Yes, I am likeable and yes, I am eccentric. Big deal. Love me or leave me.

The packaging isn’t that bad either. I’m comfortable in my own skin, so I don’t feel the need to shed a ton of weight. I’m too lazy to do that anyway. I’ll probably continue to grow my beard and shave my head – I’d like to grow my beard until we vacation in May. If that makes people roll their eyes, so be it. It’s my face. And I can’t see myself with a head of hair anymore, I couldn’t even grow a full head of hair if I tried and I’ve accepted that.

I’m going to do more cycling this year. Now that I have a handle on how my on-call weeks for work actually work, I’ve figured out a good way manage recreation and work all together. Will I fall down in a rejected mess if I don’t do a lot of cycling? No, I won’t. Its for fun, no sense in beating myself up over it.

So there’s no Resolution Revolution this year. I’m just me.

Today I start a couple of days of training work. I have to drive to our other office, 50 miles away, for the next two days. Have I mentioned that I’m not a morning person? I’m sitting here staring at my laptop screen like a mindless zombie and I’m not even certain of my full given name.

I think I’ll take a nap on the way. Is it safe to zone out on long commutes?

Here it is the week between Christmas and New Year’s. The time I like to call ‘Tween. You know the drill, only half the people are working in your office so it’s sort of like a regular work week aside from the fact that the malls and big box behemoths are still packed to the brim with surly shoppers too impatient to stand in line at the return counter.

Kids are also off from school this week. They often say that the primary goal of our education system is to prepare a student for the real world, to arm them with the tools they need to survive the rest of their life. That’s why I’ve never understood why schools are closed so much. What are there, 180 days in the school year? That’s less than half a year. Half a year! I wish I could get half a year off from my job. I guess I’m jealous.

But I digress.

It’s a little bit of a challenge here at work during the ‘tween. It’s a slow time, so I try to look busy and resist the urge to go wildly surfing on the internet. You never know who, besides the U.S. Government of course (wave for the NSA man!), is monitoring your online activity, so it’s best to stay away from the porn from 9 to 5. Even that site that beckons “Jerk at work”. Not that I’ve ever been there.

Luckily the geek in me enjoys keeping up with the happenings in the technology and telecommunications community, which is inline with what I do for a living.

Back in my early days of radio as a fill-in d.j. this was a busy week for me. I would get to work as the replacement for the popular night-time slot. Sort of like Joan Rivers sitting in for Johnny Carson, though I was J.P. Marks sitting in for B.B. Good and I didn’t have any of Joan’s plastic look or sound. Listeners would enjoy the show but they preferred to hear the “real” d.j. do her thing.

Maybe I should have used the name ‘Tweener.