The eggnog’s been drunk, the gifts have been opened, and that week-long season — the one that somehow manages to suck entire months of our lives into its toothy vortex — that season unofficially known as The Holidays — has effectively come to a close.

And all I really have to show for it is an airplane-induced backache, a cookie-induced cheek zit, and an extra roll of insulation around my waistline.

Oh, and a serious case of the Mondays.

Even though it’s Tuesday.

That lovely North Carolina sun greeted us upon our return from frigid Nebraska yesterday, but apparently sunshine is so last year because today, the first day of 2013, it’s cloudy, rainy, and decidedly uninspiring.

We still haven’t ventured back home, opting instead to greet the new year with our besties — Alaina, Dirk, and baby Myra. Our doggie day camp has officially kidnapped our mutts until tomorrow, and the thought of following a week of family, friends, and general merriment with a return to a cold house absent of wiggling warm puppy bellies is disheartening.

To say the least.

So our New Year’s Eve was the typical glamorous celebration filled with food, football, and f… passing out at quarter-till midnight.

Hey.

Alaina’s pregnant again and I apparently have sympathy fatigue.

That’s just the kind of friend I am.

Also, I was drinking champagne for two.

So I have approximately 5,642 pictures from our week to sift through, a list of inspiring resolutions to make and ignore, and a flurry of interesting freelance projects with which to ring in the new year. But today I think I might perform one last ode to procrastination by catching a solo movie while everyone else watches football — preferably one that will allow me to mindlessly stare at Bradley Cooper for 120 straight minutes.

Then I’ll get to that resolution B.S.

Speaking of resolutions, remember mine from last year?

I picked a word describing my hopes and dreams for 2012 — Ambition — and vowed to try to make it apply. True to form, I procrastinated until about October, when I quit yet another filler job and finally — finally — learned how to stop bullshitting myself and start making things happen.

And sure enough, they’ve been happening.

Good things.

So this year, I’m picking a new word:

momentum.

Because I can think of nothing better than to just keep swimming. To slice through that water with increasing ease. To breathe in, blow out, and watch my muscles grow.

It’s a good feeling, you know.

Liberating.

You should try it sometime.

What’s YOUR word for 2013?