Where's H.G. Wells when you need him?

If at some point tomorrow you hear a sound akin to nails on a chalkboard, don't be alarmed. It's just me clinging to the remaining minutes of 2009 with all of the strength I can muster.

Were I equipped with a homemade cardboard sign and a blow horn, I would stand on the nearest street corner and protest the coming of 2010. Since I am not, I will sound off here.

Let the soapbox rant begin: I am not in favor of a new year.

"Not in favor" doesn't exactly do my current emotional status justice, "diametrically opposed" is a closer and yet still inadequate descriptor. I am quite happy with this year. In fact, I do not recall a year that elicited more of my favor than this current, beloved year. It has been so good to me! Blessing upon blessing, wonderful day upon wonderful day - this was a year with no equal. Now I am well aware that this was not of 2009's doing, but of God's (thank You, by the way), and His perfect plan may very well include a respectable 2010 to go along with an outstanding 2009. But if there is a 365 day trend in life that coincides with the year on the calendar, it's just common sense to not want to disrupt the flow and throw a whole new number scheme into the mix.

Also, I am notoriously not a fan of change. (One of two reasons why New Year's is my least favorite holiday. The other reason being I find it a tad discriminatory. I don't gather together with kith and kin on January 31st to usher in February with cheerful affection, so why all of the ruckus over December rolling into January? Answer me that and I'll start celebrating New Year's with more enthusiasm.) I absolutely loathe making the switch to writing a new year on everything I date. I'll be well into May before I am consistently dating everything correctly. Who wants that? Not I. Not the bank teller who has to remind me for the thousandth time that it is no longer 2009, either.

And let's not even talk about how 2010 ushers in a whole new decade. DECADE. Since when am I old enough to talk about life in terms of decades??? This soon-to-be-past decade was the wonderful collection of my teen years, high school and college, the glory of young adulthood. All good things. The prime time slot in the TV Guide of life. And all of a sudden, we are moving on to the next chapter in a new section? I am not done with this decade yet, thank you.

As a result of the above complaints, I have decided to rename 2010. Just for my own personal use, of course. I'm not going to petition the whole world to use my system - that would be a little much and I'm fairly certain there are few as reluctant (read: stubborn) as I am about this whole new year deal. Since I am so content with 2009, I would like this next year to be a sequel - a GOOD sequel, I'm talking Shrek 2 here, not 102 Dalmatians. So, henceforth, 2010 will be known to me as 2009: The Sequel.

Amen.