January 3rd had every right to be a crappy day. It was the first day back to work. Holiday blues were setting in. Resolutions had already been broken (dry January ended for me at 7 p.m. on January 1, when I unblinkingly accepted a glass of champagne). And just the knowledge that it was only day three of arguably the worst month of the year zapped pretty much all motivation out of me.
I had been juggling a handful of projects prior to Christmas break, and I was absolutely dreading having to catch them, left suspended in mid-air for two weeks. What was my job again? What do I even do for a living? The answers weren’t there.