New Years is a complicated day for me. It’s a holiday and a day to spend remembering spending time with friends the night before. It marks the close of the last year (a difficult one, for me, so I’m glad to see it go). It’s my sister’s birthday.

It also marks a day when people look forward to a new year with hope for things to come. Resolutions set, positive changes planned, somehow this arbitrary day marks a point in time when people can start over in ways large and small. And here’s where the other kind of anniversary comes in for me.

Three years ago today, I woke up feeling pretty under the weather and spent the day in bed nursing flu-ish aches and a headache and general malaise. A week later I remember telling a friend I was still so tired I was having to really talk myself into lifting my hands as far as the keyboard. Soon after that I went to the doctor for something other than a broken bone or a check-up for only the second time in my life.

Since then I’ve taken medical leave once, worked reduced hours for one summer, had my mom travel several hundred miles every couple of months to clean my house and stock my freezer,  pulled back from interesting projects at work, accepted generous help with everything from meals to laundry from good friends, and generally completely lost touch with the person I used to be.

So New Year’s Day is a hard one for me, full of anger and sadness that this thing, whatever it is, has swallowed yet another year — full of fear for the upcoming years.

Periodically, there’s reason to hope that this won’t last forever. When I pull myself out of the gloom induced by yet another anniversary, I’ll get back to the business of remembering that future hopeful periods may actually blossom into real health, and that a few past hopeful periods have resulted in improvement even when they didn’t cure me. I can read again, as long as it’s light reading, and I can do many interesting things at work again. I also know now, for sure and certain, that I have friends and family who care about me.

And tomorrow will be January 2nd, 2011, which will be a far less complicated day.

My family gave me a Wii for Christmas. A couple of days later I downloaded Fluidity (and had no idea at the time that it had just been released 2 days before). It’s the first real game I’ve owned and played since … college? Yeah, college. And it’s the first game I’ve played since Myst that had Myst-like appeal. Interlocking puzzles, puzzles in new worlds that help you solve puzzles in old worlds, scenery that you can manipulate, scenery that makes more and more sense the more you know about the world and its puzzles.

Yeah, I’m obsessed.

I’ll be doing my dishes and think “I wonder if I can get on TOP of the cable car. I bet that’d do it.”

I’m so impatient to solve all the puzzles, and I’m also so glad that there are about 100 of them and that I’ve only just made a dent. Most of all, though, I’m glad for the upcoming 3-day weekend.

Step One: The Nest

Make a nest for yourself in some comfy location with windows where you can watch what’s going on outside. You’ll probably see people skiing past your door to make it to the grocery store across the street, and you won’t want to miss that.

This nest should be soft and squishy, should have a table nearby to hold your laptop, tea pot, tea cup, book, and phone, and should come with 3 or 4 blankets ranging from heavy (the weight is comforting) to fluffy (because, duh, it’s comfy). Remember that your goal is not to have to leave the nest for several days and plan accordingly.

If possible, your nest should also come with a cat, the needier the better. If you’ve just been gone for a couple of weeks on vacation and worked late hours the week before and after that vacation, all the better, because the cat will be at its neediest.

I also recommend having a lightbox on one side and a parabolic space heater on the other. Between these two things, it’s possible to trick part of your brain into thinking you’re lying on a beach while the other part contemplates the speed with which all life would cease to exist if confronted with -35F windchills and 1-2 inches of snow per hour on a regular basis.

Oh, and you’ll want to have some access to the local news. You can guarantee that people will be eager to interrupt whatever program is on, and do so frequently and breathlessly. You may get to see footage of football stadium roofs collapse, and you can amuse yourself by counting up all the times when the announcers and meteorologists tell you that they don’t know anything new, or don’t know what’s going on. Be on alert, particularly, for all the ways the meteorologists tell you they really have no idea how much snow is falling.

Step Two: The Food

It’s best if you have food in the house before the blizzard. Be aware that you’ll want to eat warm food during this time, and that you won’t want to eat anything white. I’ve heard you can sometimes rely on delivery for this step, but when they send plows out to rescue other plows, and then decide not to plow at all, it’s best not to rely too heavily on this option.

This goal may potentially come into sharp tension with the previous goal of having a needy cat, since there’s very little time for stocking the pantry if you’re working and on vacation pretty much straight for a month. Be forewarned.

If, by some chance, you happened to prioritize the project of making the cat needy over stocking your pantry, and if you happen to have very little beyond bread, cheese, and noodles in the house, it is possible to live through the duration of the blizzard on cheese and cheese-based food. Grilled cheese — mac & cheese — more grilled cheese. I also had some bananas, which were good but which were not warm and which were too close to white. (Please note that my bread was not white. Nor were my noodles.)

Step Three: Snow Removal

Do not underestimate this step. It will likely take you 2 hours to do what you thought you could do in 15 minutes. In fact, the best idea is to hire someone else to do it for you (unless you happen to own a snowblower and feel like making a fortune by showing up at forlorn neighbors’ houses, which I saw happening several times).

If you hire it out, be sure to have no plans. This should mesh well with the Department of Transportation’s urgent pleas to stay home, please, please, pretty please. It’s likely that the person you hired will have been hired by more than just you, and it’s likely that some of those people will be very testy about the snow and will demand that the poor snow removal guy come out every couple of hours to get rid of the new drift they see forming on their beautiful sidewalk. It’s also possible that the strain of all of the plowing and hauling and running back and forth to battle the drifts will cause the snow removal guy’s truck to burn out its transmission, and that he’ll feel pretty terrible about leaving you snowed in, even if you tell him that it’s ok, and that you really hadn’t planned to go anywhere anyway.

All of this works out even better if you are feeling pretty crummy and welcome the excuse not to go anywhere or do anything. The key is to get sick enough that you need a few days of complete rest without getting so sick that you need to go to the hospital, because then you’d have to go out, which would be a lot easier if you were plowed out.

Be aware that your nest will be an advantage when watching the city bring in the huge tractors that spew snow into awaiting dump trucks for removal to some field or other, but that the nest will be a distinct disadvantage as you watch the poor guy trudge up and down behind the snow blower looking exhausted and cold. You may want to have a windowless retreat prepared, and an activity (either something really engaging or something that involves being asleep) all set to keep you from contemplating the cruelty you’re inflicting on another human being. You will need this activity to last you for several hours, particularly if you’re on a corner lot.

Step Four: Don’t Take Out The Trash

Seriously. Do the cost-benefit analysis. On the one hand, you have trash cans that are getting full. On the other, you have trash cans that will need to be dug out after you’ve dug a path to them. And then you’ll need to dig a path to the curb, which you’re pretty sure is somewhere halfway between the sidewalk and the place where the plows stopped plowing in the middle of the street. Then you’ll have to get back out there to retrieve them when the garbage truck has finished with them, probably dumping them somewhere other than in the space you would have prepared for them.

I’m finding the slightly more full than usual trash cans in the house far more pleasant than the alternative.

Step Five: Be Proud

If people tell you they’ve gotten more snow then you, remember that you’ve had a lot of snow, plus a lot of wind, and it’s probably colder where you are. Impress them with your knowledge that it would only take 10 minutes to get frost-bitten where you are.

In general everyone else you know will have had more snow, or more wind, or more cold, but not all three together. If they have had all three together, distract them with pictures of baby animals.

They’re predicting the heaviest snow fall since Halloween 1991. They’re predicting that we won’t know how much snow we got because of all the blowing and drifting, but that it’ll probably be measured in feet. They’re predicting windchills south of -35F.

I’m coping by making continual pots of tea and staying in my pjs all day. (Hey, they said nobody should go out, right? So technically none of us need to be dressed. I’m just saying.) I don’t have a whole lot of food in the house, and I was planning to do my post-I’ve-been-away-for-2-weeks-and-then-working-all-week shopping today, but I do have cheese. So I’ll just have to rely on mac & cheese, grilled cheese, and maybe just straight cheese. What a hardship. And since this is also the first day I’ve just been home in over 3 weeks, I think the cat is planning to spend the entire time glued to my lap.

So yeah. Things could be worse.

Like, if the power goes out, that would be worse.

Later I have a whole bunch of unfun stuff to do that I’ve been putting off (flex spending paperwork, anyone?), but for now I’ll sit here in the front room and watch the snow fall at about 2 inches per hour while people ski down my street.

“I want you to get the bulk of your protein for the day in the morning,” my doctor said.

“I’m allergic to eggs,” I reminded him.

“Do you like breakfast meats?”

“Not really. They usually go with eggs, so I haven’t really eaten them. Ever.”

“Hmmm. Yeah, it’ll be hard. You could try a protein shake.”

So there were two of the three most unappetizing breakfast suggestions I could think of. The third was supplied by my mom later that day when I asked if she had any suggestions. “Just plate up leftover dinner in the evening and then heat that in the morning.”

I love leftover dinner. For dinner.

I’ve heard people rhapsodize over bacon and sausage. I’ve eaten bacon, and even like it in things like BLTs, but otherwise it holds zero appeal for me. Something must be broken in the “are you a human? therefore you like bacon” center of my brain. But I’ve occasionally had sausage-y slices on crackers at receptions and not minded, so I went hunting through the meat section of the co-op to see what sausage looks like before it’s been sliced and placed next to cheese and crackers.

As it turns out, there are choices. It’s not like asking “where’s the celery.” It’s more like asking “where’s the philosophy” and then having no vocabulary to help you refine your question or understand when the wrapper is labeled “Utilitarian” or “Hegelian.”

So I stood there for a while trying to intuit which of the choices in front of me might taste good a) in the morning, when I’m used to cereal or toast, and b) to someone who doesn’t even like bacon. Finally a thick pork sausage seemed like the thing to try, so I brought it home.

The next morning I typed “how to cook sausage” into Google to see what to do next.

As it turns out, you can fry it, bake it, or boil it and then fry it. Looking at the thickness of the sausage and the warning telling me to be sure to cook it until there is no pink meat left in the center, I decided to play it safe and boil it first. I know how to boil things. I’m far shakier on any other kind of meat preparation that doesn’t involve a Formane grill or a slow cooker. So I released it from its plastic casing and dunked it into a pot of boiling water. And waited.

Half an hour later I poked it with a meat thermometer and decided to boil it some more.

15 minutes later I poked it again and decided it was close enough to cooked to start the frying process. This process didn’t go all that well. The meat didn’t really seem to brown up very well, or when it did it then stuck to the pan and came off in little chunks. And I’m pretty sure the frying was just for color anyway, so I added some water to the pan and basically fry-boiled it some more.

Then I cut it in half an examined it for evidence of pinkness. It’s so hard to tell, sometimes. That bit might have been a shade more flesh-toned than the rest. And maybe that bit over there was still thinking about communism.

Not wanting to take any chances, I put it back in the pan, turned the flame back on, and just left the kitchen for a while. Who cares if it sticks. I intended to fry every last shred of a soul out of that meat.

As it turns out, sausage mostly tastes spicy. I’m not a huge fan, but I’ll give it a couple more tries before checking out the protein shake options.