There’s room for improvement, particularly in terms of the staff’s ability to add up customers’ charges, but ultimately, I had an enjoyable dinner at Manuela, and, like Charlie, I would gladly visit this restaurant again. Its cocktail menu alone deserves an A-; moreover, the melt-in-your-mouth biscuits are another factor that boosts Manuela’s appeal. All said, then, Manuela is not a bad place to celebrate the end of another year.

Along with the desperate need to celebrate and the frantic search for something to show for having lived through another year that marks the end of each December, there is also anxiety over the myriad unknowns the new year holds, however much it may be disguised as anticipation. After December 31^st, am I still going to be me? Science tells us that matter never ceases to be; it only changes in form. Therefore, many people believe that once we cross that threshold, we do not simply go away, but rather, we continue to exist, only in a different way. As Eleanor Shellstrop says on The Good Place, because of the awareness, always present in the back of our mind, that eventually the things we know will end, “humans are always a little bit sad.” Hell, I’m a little bit scared just wearing a new dress for the first time, so yeah, the thought of having my atoms transmogrified and my consciousness altered is undeniably scary. I’m not even sure I wouldn’t prefer to believe that I’ll just vanish completely from existence on January 1^st. But that option taxes my credulity a lot more than its alternative; that the new year will happen and I will still be in it, but I will be different.

So, there you have it, folks! A year’s worth of unfiltered, unsolicited, unsophisticated restaurant reviews. As mentioned in a few previous posts, I’m an admitted workaholic, which I’m totally fine and even happy being. Once in a while, however, I do experience a tremor of trepidation that seemingly sound decisions on how to spend my time today may in 10, 20 years’ time, beget regret. Would I, as I lay gasping my final breaths, look back and think, “At least I was able to turn in all my work on time!” Or, would I wish that I had savored more of life’s indolent, self-indulgent, hedonistic moments? For now, I’ll continue to assume that a life well-lived is one in which more time is devoted to work than play; nevertheless, the enjoyment of a cocktail and delicious meal with a good friend every now and then is a necessary party.