I assume there will be much spanking.
Well, meeshies, I didn't stay up to see the ball drop. As I've aged, I've found that I don't care as much about whether a sparkly metal ball reaches the bottom of a pole or not. I think the part of my brain that worried about that sort of thing has died an inconspicuous and solitary death.
I, on the other hand, haven't. Yet. Which suprises me greatly. I mean, I've been planning my untimely death since the age of ten, and it still hasn't happened! I'm thinking of filing a complaint with someone, as soon as I figure out who the person responsible for this oversight is.
And if I don't figure it out, I'll just send my complaint to a random stranger and see what their response is. I'm certain nothing bad will come of that.
Mom has been blaring music for hours now, and I'm fairly sure that the neighbors are going to form an angry mob and trample her sometime soon. And me, since I'll be in the house with her. Perhaps she is trying to assist me in my dream of demise.
Have a happy year, and lose that weight!
(My New Year's resolution, by the way, is to die this year. I'm pretty sure I can make it happen by August.)