I sat, surrounded by loud music with an undercurrent of mumbling crowds, drink in hand, watching the swirling disco ball.
“So, new year, huh? Chance to start over, do something wild. Wanna hang out?” A man reeking of peppermint smiled drunkenly down my v-neck top.
“Sorry, taken.” I simply replied. I was comfortable in my thoughts with my view of the disco ball. I didn’t want to leave the cushioned bar stool. Luckily he spotted another set of breasts and took off after them.
It was about 30 minutes now until the ball dropped. This year I did want to do things differently. The past year I started some new hobbies, made some new friends, and cut my hair in a new style. But I wasn’t happy with those changes. They didn’t get me closer to my goals. I needed to do more.
Life was about living it; experiences, memories. And I wanted to live it. I had so much potential bubbling inside me and the new year brought it to a low simmer. I felt rather bubbly too, and putting my drink down, went to dance.