We've been very quiet lately. That's because I've been pretending I'm a real writer. Most newspaper columnists, exhausted by the strain of churning out 500 words a week, are on leave now for up to six weeks, replaced by summer stand-ins. Ditto TV hosts, newsreaders and radio DJs. Most of us will have been back at work for weeks by the time Adam Spencer returns to brighten Sydney's mornings.
Xander and Nico (the blog, not us as people, or as person and cat) should have done the same. Maybe the apathy and plummeting readership around here could have perked up if we had a younger, lesser known but actually better guest blogger for the summer. But as always I didn't bother organising anything in time, so now you're stuck with a Xmas-leftover-and-wine bloated Nico until 2009 rolls around to improve my enthusiasm.
How many times have you heard it said, 2008 was a shitty year for just about everyone? The aforementioned disasters, no end to the conflict in Iraq, Rudd starting out with so much promise but turning out to be dull and (for many of us) useless, the financial crisis... then in our personal lives, just about everyone I know has had Something Shitty happen to this year. Health problems, break ups, financial worries (I had all three!). Despite the fact that it means here comes thirty, I've never looked forward to a new year more than 2009. Not the celebrations but the year itself. You have to love the Chinese Year of the Cow.