In spite of getting nowhere with I, L, B or B last year, losing D for good, not getting invited to M’s wedding, and losing all of my cachet as one of the workplace cool kids, last year was actually a pretty damn good year. My professional life was probably the best ever—likely the first entire year that I stayed consistent with working hard and getting noticed for my work.
I stayed away from the drink, mostly, getting drunk maybe twelve times, maybe twenty, but no more than that. I wrote in my journal almost every single day. I traveled somewhere for the first time in my life that was: not for the purpose of business, friends or family, and: all by myself. There is one earlier travel that could be mentioned—the 1996 Spring Break day trip to D.C. But, this was the first time I spent the night alone in a strange city without any agenda except to be a tourist. I loved every second of it.
This year can’t be like that, unfortunately. This year sees me walking through a limitless string of uncertainties attached to each other. Will I be accepted into the EMT program? Will I find a new place to live that’s affordable and closer to work? Will I have a job after July? Will I find what it is I’m looking for before it’s too late, and the world’s governments begin the process of unification, and the world’s scientists invent that one shot that keeps you genetically primed to be free of most diseases (and also implants a tracking device in you and gives your soul completely over to the Anti-Christ, but hey), or I die of a heart attack or cancer or some strange disease?
Will I be able to resolve all the things I merely buried inside of me before they kill me?