New Year’s Eve is like losing your virginity: You spend weeks, even months, agonising over every little detail planning the perfect night, but when it finally comes about the whole event turns out to be quite an uncomfortable, painful experience and an absolute mess. And when it’s over, you tell yourself “well, it’ll probably be better next time.”
Repeat after me: Forced fun is no fun. There’s so much pressure to go out and ‘do something’ that when someone declares their wish to have an ordinary night at home they automatically become an absolute social pariah. But whatever you do will never live up to the hype. There are promises of lavish, Gatsbyesque parties that may cost hundreds of dollars for a ticket but are for sure worth it because they’ll be much more enjoyable than a regular night out on the town, even though the town is now populated with 2 billion people per square metre. And I mean, have you met people? Some persons are ok, but people… People are horrendous. I don’t know where people are from, but on New Year’s Eve people come out of wherever they’ve been hiding and they’re suddenly EVERYWHERE, out to celebrate….
What? What are we all really celebrating? The arbitrary transition from one set of 365 days to another set of 365 days? I will raise a glass to the astronomers of the Roman Empire whose ingenuity gave us the modern Gregorian calendar, but not the ridiculous perception that goes along the lines of ‘going into a new year gives you a fresh start, will bring about new changes’. The only reason this happens is because one actively goes about achieving those new changes. In this equation, the independent variable is your willpower, not some magical force that sweeps the land and reduces body fat every 1 January. There’s no reason to wait until some arbitrary point in time in the future to achieve whatever your ‘New Year’s resolutions’ are.
The fact that it’s this year or last year or next year or the year after that doesn’t suddenly solve global warming nor poverty and famine in developing nations. Will ISIS stop bombing and beheading people because they were particularly prolific in 2016? Did Justin Bieber suddenly become a decent artist after the clock struck midnight on 31 December 2015?
Let’s face it: No one enjoys New Year’s Eve. It’s just one of those things we don’t say, like acknowledging that Santa Claus isn’t real (no one has officially told me that he isn’t yet). New Year’s Eve is only still a thing because of the Fear Of Missing Out syndrome that afflicts us all. We know New Year’s Eve is going to be awful, but… for once, just once, what if it isn’t this year?
The last day of December isn’t even the end of summer (or winter, if you’re one of those weird people that aren’t Australian). So move along people, nothing to celebrate. Even the Queen’s Birthday is a better holiday – Holding a cushy, well-paid job with minimal stress for so long is #goals.
Years, alongside days and months, are useful demarcations of time and recording significant events in history. Nothing more.