There's something a little bit magical about midnight.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
Perhaps this is just a musing of someone who was once a little girl, being read Cinderella, but that second that somehow straddles two days, months or even years, can feel - to an imaginative mind - like a form of time manipulation.
And for most days of the year I am happy to live in this world where people can believe that when the clock strikes 12, they can start afresh.
But there is something about New Year's Eve - the midnight of all midnights - that is a letdown. There is so much pressure put on this one night to be this big celebration. Pressure that is easy to succumb to.
Cities across the world put on spectacles on TV - fictional or not - that will always set a high and unachievable standard of what makes a good New Year's Eve. New York has the famed ball drop in Times Square.
It's an event that has happened every year - barring 1942 and 1943 - since 1904, the year The New York Times was looking for something to mark the opening of its new headquarters at One Times Square.
More than a century later, it has become the place to be for Americans and travellers to celebrate New Year's Eve.
And yet, the year I decided to spend New Year's in New York, any local I spoke to would advise against spending December 31 at Times Square. Go to a restaurant in the surrounding area - which is booked out months in advance - sure. But wait in the cold for hours to save a spot which may or may not have the viewing position of the ball?
"You're better watching it on TV at a bar," they would say. Not in the least because those truly dedicated to the cause of ringing in the new year with a giant light-up ball, would rather wear an adult diaper or go to the bathroom in the street than leave their New Year's Eve position.
And such is the yearly disappointment that is New Year's Eve - no matter where you are in the world.
Overpriced drinks, menus that leave much to the imagination and the choice between waiting hours for a taxi or being hit by an Uber surcharge are just the beginning.
But how could you possibly have a good night when everything is working against it?
Not to mention this idea that once midnight hits, you suddenly need to be a better person than when you woke up that morning.
You will wake up early and go to the gym. You'll never complain about work, and promise not to leave months in between catching up with friends. You're going to use those new diaries and journals you bought - even though you never had them before. And perhaps you will even sit down and write the next big thing in Australian literature.
It's not that I don't believe people can do these things. But if the only time you believe you can start those things is January 1, then you're probably not going to start them at all. Or at least follow through.
I read recently that Christmas is an amplifier - if life is good, then Christmas is good. If life is not so good, Christmas is not so good.
If that's the case, then surely New Year's Eve is the social media influencer of holidays. Nothing is ever as good as it appears through a certain filter and if you compare yourself, your night and your goals to an edited version of reality, it's always going to fall flat.
So here's to 2024. May it be more real and less filtered. May it have more laughs than tears. And when things eventually don't pan out the way you hope - because it's almost inevitable - may you be able to see it for what it is, rather than what society tells you what it should be.