Januarys in the northern hemisphere are the most miserable. While everyone thinks I must be excited for January because it’s the month of my birthday, since moving to the east coast, to me, there is very little to be stoked about during this cold, dark, and miserable month. Chris goes into hibernation mode and hates leaving the apartment on weekends unless it’s for a quick meal (in Manhattan, preferably close to the apartment) or for a theater show. I dislike the cold, but I refuse to let the cold dictate where I go, hence I usually make friends go to Queens with me for cheap and delicious food this month. But today, it was a day of very annoying and intense organizing for scrapbooking of our travels that I’ve neglected for over a year. I had to sort through photos from November 2017 through January 2019, and I somehow am still not done.

This is what procrastination is like when you have literally hundreds and hundreds of photos staring at you, all asking if you will print them or not. We live in an age of plenty: technology has made it easy for us to not be so selective of the photos we snap. Now, we can take pictures of our gross toenail growth or our tongue that has turned yellow from turmeric, and no one needs to feel guilty about these seemingly silly photos because it’s not like you’re “wasting” expensive film on these, right? Instead, you get faced with thousands of pictures that you then need to comb through to decide which are the most worthy to actually be printed and either put in a photo frame, album, or scrapbook. And that is truly a pain in the neck… in my neck.

Note to self: never wait a year and three months for the next time you decide to print photos.