So, it’s the last night of the year. This morning I woke up with a cat on my head. Then I went to the coffee shop, wrote some, missed a phone call, and got nervous about Rosh Hashanah. It’s 11.48 pm and I am still nervous. I thought about going to the mikveh, about making a list of intentions for this next year (dangerously close to New Year’s resolutions), sending out a flurry of Shana Tovahs to people. I really have no idea what I can do that will make me feel like I’m ready for Rosh Hashanah, but it feels hard to imagine a holiday that’s not accompanied by the mysterious dehydration and lethargy of being in shul, the naps, the traversing back and forth of streets, and my lovely friends who always feed me. This year I will also be with people who love me, a cat, in a cozy house, without the liturgical fights but still with the existential ones. (Yeah, it’s still me.)
Also, earlier this week, I found a fortune in my cookie that said, “You will pass a difficult test that will make you happier.” Because I choose to, I believe it.