The plan this evening for New Year's Eve is to stay indoors and glue my eyes to the TV.
Yes, there shall be no partying- not that there was any to begin with, no champagne popping- because there is no champagne in the house, and no solemn Watchnight Service either- because although I used to attend one which stretched all the way for three hours until the clock turned twelve, I haven't attended one in years.
I guess the spirit of me being meditative and reflective on New Year's Eve faded away over time.
One thing though, I'm quieter this year than most.
For some time, if I haven't been at the Bay Area squishing and squashing with the crowds to catch sight of the fireworks display, I've been by the beaches counting the flares that get released by the ships at the stroke of midnight.
This year I'm doing neither.
I don't want to.
And so not only will there will be no bus trips to the east coast of the island for the flares, there will be no long walks in and out of the Bay Area for the fireworks. There will also not be any crazy crowd squeezing at Orchard Road (been there, done that) and nor will there be bus trips that take me to the northeast coast.
I'll be indoors.
Hopefully, with a can of Radler beer or a mug of makkeoli.
It is New Year's Eve after all.