2006, etc.
drunken debauchery always has its regrets in the morning.
despite my annual complaint that new year's is a construct of the worst and most irrational sort, the sense of the tabula rasa is pernicious. quick, make those resolutions now, and in a week you can begin to pave the road to hell with them.
so vanishes another sum of moments. every man regards his own life as the New Year's Eve of time.