Vesna McMaster - New Year

‘November.’ She glowers at the wall chart. ‘There are too many gaps in the to-do list from January.’

‘You haven’t done too badly. We didn’t really need to reno the bathrooms anyway. And the promotion plan may have been ambitious.’

‘It’s what I wanted. Mum always used to say I could do anything if I tried.’

‘And you can! It’s no big deal, look at all of these that are crossed off.’

‘Not good enough.’

She rips the last two pages off the calendar.

The room flashes. The calendar buckles. January is back on the top sheet. The chart is blank again.

‘There. This time I’ll follow the schedule. You’ll see.’

February. ‘The savings are mounting up. I’ll schedule the renos, shall I?’

‘You sure? Will there be enough for the trip to Canada?’

‘Of course, there was last time.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing, dear. I’m sure we can economise.’

June. Dust in the air, toilets ripped out. Chaos and stress. August. Shiny sinks and satisfaction. September. Unfillable holes in the bank. October.

‘We didn’t get to Canada after all.’

‘Never mind. There’s always next year. Plus, the bathrooms are a joy every day.’

‘It’s not good enough. We should have been able to do both.’ She squints at the calendar. ‘I want a new year.’

Rip. Swivel. Flash.

There’s January again.

February.

‘Feel like a dinner out tonight, dear?’

‘Best not. We’ve got to save for the renos and our trip.’

‘We haven’t been out for ages.’

‘I’ll get the promotion soon, then we can, just wait a bit.’

‘How do you know you’ll get the promotion?’

‘I have a feeling.’

‘Well then, a little steak dinner and some wine?’

‘Control. You must learn control!’

March. Dust in the air. Frightened-looking tradesmen scurrying in and out. April. Shiny sinks. May. Promotion. June. Holiday booked.

She stares at the calendar.

‘I forgot about the personal development goals. I was meant to be twelve pounds lighter by now.’

She reaches for the remaining sheets on the calendar.