How on earth is it already December! It felt like it took forever, but at other times, it happened so quick!

It's already December. Can't believe it. 😶

The year is ending whether I'm ready or not. Some thoughts from the quiet, grey middle of it all.

It hit me when I was buying coffee. I was just standing there in the aisle, and I saw some 2026 planners. All lined up. Clean. Guilt-tripping me from the shelf. I bought one. Not because I'm organized, but because it had a galaxy on the cover and was 40% off.

I opened it when I got home. January 1st is just… a grid. Empty white squares. It felt less like a fresh start and more like a to-do list.

I’ve never kept a New Year’s resolution. Not one. I think the whole concept is kind of a lie we all agree to believe. If something was really important, if you really wanted to change, why on earth would you wait for a Monday in January? You’d start on a random, rainy Wednesday in April when you finally got sick of your own excuses. You wouldn’t need a countdown and fireworks.

But here’s the funny thing. Even though my brain knows it’s a scam, my heart does this weird thing in December. I start the “soft launch.”

It's also the time I uploaded the first article of FriedReads this year, January 1st.

It goes like this. The thought pops in: You should get a better sleep schedule. It’s a mess.

So, I try. For two nights, I’m in bed before midnight. Feeling virtuous. Then, on the third night, I find myself down a rabbit hole at 2:17 AM, reading about the failed architectural design of a shopping mall in Ohio that was abandoned in the 80s. Not for an article. Just because. The man who makes the resolution and the man who lives the life are two different guys, and they are not on speaking terms.

Resolution: Go out more. Be less of a hermit. The Soft Launch: I leave the house… to go to the pharmacy for throat lozenges. I stand outside for three minutes, feel the cold air, and think, “Okay, did it. Socialized with the atmosphere.” Then I go right back inside. I am the world’s most lenient judge of my own progress.

The biggest one is always: Spend less time mindlessly on the internet. Make time for yourself.

This is where it gets confusing. What is “mindless” time? Is it scrolling through nonsense? Yeah, probably. But FriedReads—this weird little website—lives on the internet, too. The research, the writing, the stupid jokes I spend hours crafting… that’s also “screen time.” So when I’m sitting here, am I numbing out or am I building something? The line isn't just blurry; it's been erased. I can tell myself I’m happy here, in this little digital corner I’ve made. And a lot of the time, I am. But “happy” and “comfortably numb” can look identical from the inside, especially in the grey light of a December afternoon.

Speaking of FriedReads… it’s almost been a year. That’s wild to me. It wasn’t a resolution. It was a late-night, coffee-fueled “screw it, let’s see if this works” moment that just… kept going. I did it for fun. My favorite parts have been the unhinged, rage-filled articles, especially the ones where I get to eviscerate Shakespeare. Cathartic doesn’t even begin to cover it. I might have one final, blistering take on the Bard in me before the year is out. Consider it my gift to myself.

The first live article was on January sixth of this year(2025). Around there somewhere. So now it’s December 3rd. 2025 is practically in the rearview. I don’t feel ready to wrap it up with a bow. I just feel like I’m in the backstage of the new year, and I can hear 2026 warming up on the other side of the curtain. I don’t have my lines memorized.

Maybe that’s okay. Maybe the work of this month isn’t to plan a better year. Maybe it’s just to sit here in the quiet and notice what’s already true. To notice the odd hours I keep, the comfort of my hermit shell, the things that make me laugh, and the things that make me furious enough to write 2,000 words about a 400-year-old playwright.

I won’t have a list of resolutions on January 1st. I’ll probably just be here, still running this silent, December beta test on myself, seeing what sticks out of sheer curiosity, not because a calendar demands it.

The year will turn whether I’m ready or not. Maybe my only job is to watch it turn, and to keep building, or bashing, the things that feel real. On a random Tuesday, a quiet Thursday, or right now.

Existing in the December haze with you,
Allen
FriedReads.com | @Allen_Fried