I couldn't decide which one I wanted to be: The one stuck at home with har cats, or the one making out with a stranger—because it was either or the other, and both were dreadful.

Last year I was the cat lady, which didn't turn out too well. The year before that I was the one making out with a stranger, which turned out better—if uncountable one-night-stands was your thing.

The choice was far too important for my reckless mind to tackle. I decided to leave this dire decision to fate, or the strike of midnight, to determine how I would begin my new year.

If you fast foreward through a couple hours and lot of alcohol, you'll find me at a random party, leaning in towards a good looking guy with dazzling eyes, about ready to accept my fate.

His breath was potent with liquor, but every eligable bachelor's was. I watched his eyes lazily shut, "8...7...6..." echoeing in the background. I can feel mine mirroring his, drooping with the countdown. But with every ticking number the comotion moves slower, "5..." until everything's almost frozen.

I almost want to be the girl that makes out with a random stranger, slipping into the same mistakes I did in years past. But that's the problem! A new year is a new begining and my old self wouldn't do that to me. So, as "4...3..2" sped up, "1" marked the second a hot guys lips squish against the palm of my hand.

"Addy?" He groans. Well, at least he knows my name.

"Im sorry...ugh" I can't believe I don't know his,"...green eyes, but I can't be that girl."

"You're drunk" he laughs, his head falling onto my shoulder.

"Why don't we walk each other home." I lifted him up with all the consiousness I had left in me, stumbling out of the apartment.

We made it about 50 feet before I collapsed next to another random couple on a dead escalator.

If you fast forward a couple more hours and many dirty looks, we both wake up to a groggy woman stepping on us. "Watch it," she mutters although she is the one who stomped on my leg.

I hear green eyes laugh. "So I guess I'm that guy."

"And I am the girl that has found a somewhat happy medium between crazy cat lady and slut."

"eh." He replies.

*"When the clock strikes twelve" trope is played inverted because, It was supposed to decide how Addy begins her new year. However, she is the one the that determines the results. *"New Year Has Come." trope is played straight because it is associated with a countdown to midnight, parties, and drinks. It also brings anticipation for the following year, as well as analyzing past years.