Y’know, I pretty much stay awake until 1 or 2 am every night of the year. Every single night. But something about the hype and circumstance surrounding New Years’ Eve makes me want to go to sleep at 7:30.
Bah, humbug.
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You’re not alone. Having spent so much of my life surrounded by students, schools and colleges, January never felt like the new year to me anyway, but the falling ball and Auld Lang Syne and zombie Dick Clark make me even less inclined to celebrate the first.
I wasn’t in bed by 7:30, but I wanted to be.
I went to bed at 10. Then I woke up at midnight and listened to my jackass neighbors setting off car alarms with their insanely loud firecrackers.
I got drunk, played Guitar Hero and hid in a fort. Also, ate lots of those Terry’s Chocolate Orange segmenty sweets.