And so it begins

The new year is already buzzing with events. I spend my (fewer!) hours at work reading article after article about the Caucuses and Primaries and Political Analyses about What This Means For Our Country. I, too, was jubilant at Obama's win in Iowa, and touched by Clinton's tearful moment in New Hampshire. I sleep in every other morning (yes, this is an event). Two of my dear, dear friends announced their engagement over Christmas (CONGRATULATIONS GEMMA AND MARK!!!). In the five days I've been home in London, I've logged 100 miles on my bike. I've seen my first British panto, and Punchdrunk's new show, both of which were unadulterated, incomparable Theatrical Experiences. I have tickets to four shows in the upcoming London International Mime Festival. I'm reading novels again. We're playing like children at school, which is liberating and Exhausting (this week's theme: Children Playing as Adults). I've been promoted at my comedy-club job starting this week, which will mean more responsibility, more grey hairs, and twice the pay.

Notably absent: genuine reflection time. This weekend will be busy (Saturday: Butoh workshop and then work; Sunday: Butoh workshop then two Mime Fest shows), so I'm hoping that tomorrow morning and early afternoon I'm able to kick my own butt out of bed and to a coffee shop so I can have some quiet time to think. It was so immensely wonderful to be home in Minneapolis over the holidays, and I did do a good job of not overextending myself while I was there (if I do say so myself), but there is such a disconnect from my life in London whenever I'm in Minneapolis that I'm not sure that I did as much reflection on the past year as I might have done. It's important to remember that, even having considerably more time to myself this term with my new, improved work schedule, I still have to remember not to give it away.