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The new year is so shiny.

It always is, but this year seems particularly gleaming in its newness. It’s not as though I have inside information, or that I’m particularly optimistic about 2018 and its sparkling possibilities. I’m just enjoying the newness.

I like the feeling of pulling the wrapping off one final package. I like crisp, new calendars crackling under the weight of potential. I like anticipating the seasons to come, the surprises that await, and even the losses that inevitably we’ll gather together into sad montages.

I’m also enjoying a strange sensation of achieveme...