In-flight, Monterey, California

The twinkling lights are coming down, and the eggnog is going sour. Everything seems the same as it was a few weeks ago, only now, I’m hoping for a little optimism, and maybe that’s only my wishful thinking, or is wishful thinking optimism? Cry me a river is over now that we’re back to work and putting our heads down and pushing through another year. Getting back to the day to day, even if I’m doing something enjoyable, can feel like a rut, like shoveling a pile of sand back and forth. But with all the good intentions and determinism, maybe it can be different this year. My father-in-law, Harry Rawlins, used to say, “Some people call it a rut, but I call it a groove.”