Same old new year

Goth girls are terrorizing a pool at a motel somewhere in Rancho Cordova. Ashby and I have ordered a pizza that they wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole and are on our respective electronic devices on opposite ends of the sofa, happily sitting out the hour-long wait for delivery. We're drinking a better-than-decent local wine out of outrageously fabulous glasses. The house is warm, the dog snoring, cats are sleeping on a blanket on a chair. I guess things could be better, but they'd have to really try.