My Day After New Year's

I did not know which day was the actual 'day after New Year's', so I woke rather confused. Yesterday was the New Year's party, so today, the 1st, must be the day after, wasn't it?

Not having this basic foundation, I was unable to jump-start my New Year's resolutions. How can one stop the binge-drinking when one does not know when to start stopping? Or indeed, when to stop starting, and continue?

I had planned to buy food from Boston Market as part of my new scheme to reduce spending. No more caviar or real Kobe beef filet-mignon for this little lord. Nobody can say I was not motivated. I even walked down the street to the outlet, and, standing outside this vendor of American comfort foods, inquired of an ornamenting pauper what day it was, and if it was the 'day after New Year's'.

The pauper, shivering there in his little pauper's corner, only looked back sullenly at me with beady little pauper eyes. I placed a dime in its hand, entertaining the possibility that it was coin-operated, and posited my inquiry again, but only elicited a disgruntled shrug from the cad.

Disgusted I walked home, feeling helpless at being unable to fulfill even such a simple vow to myself. I sank into bed with a phial of gin and began to imbibe while watching reruns of Letterman.

Somewhere between Crispin Glover's cocaine-induced interview of yore, and a skit about Jay-Lo's buttocks, my friend -- a doorman at a nearby building -- called me up. I started to cry into the phone, telling him how useless it all is.

"Dude," he replied, "you're supposed to start the resolutions on New Year's day, not the day after!"

A gleam of hope glided through my mind, but quickly tore to shreds. Then it cautiously gleamed again. What day was it? "Is today New Year's day?" I ventured into the receiver, voice trembling with tremors (and tumors). "I mean, yesterday was the party, so I don't know ... is it ... "

"It was, until five minutes ago."

"Wot?"

"Yeah, it's the day after New Year's now."