I want 2016 to be a good year. How many times am I going to Ctrl+Shift left arrow that last sentence to fully encompass what I want it to say? Let’s try it again:
I desperately want 2016 to be a good year.
2016 is the year I stop letting things get me down. Like watching the first “trend” of the year be caused by potential winnings surmounting to a half billion after taxes. Or like losing Bowie and Rickman in one week. No, no more letting it get the best of me. There are things to accomplish, 2016. BIG things!
2015 was a decent year. My god, here I go again with the deleting. All things said, it was an interesting one. Yeah, I found out that I’m a hit with 84 year old men, and they will do whatever necessary to get a piece of the A-Man (I may have told it – but I certainly didn’t do it justice), and maybe the year ended with my asshole dog biting another dog…right in the asshole. But all and all, I feel like I came into my own in 2015. Tough shit to say, especially for a guy who’s pushing 30, but it’s true. I feel good in my bones; and I’m shaking off the nay-sayers.
2015 could have been worse. A lot worse. I ended the year paying for a dog’s broken asshole – but because I found a decent job where I write and edit for money, I was able to afford paying to repair other dog’s asshole. Also, my girlfriend still doesn’t hate me after three years, and I’m beginning to wonder if she ever will. Got published, too. You’d be hard-pressed to find the article unless you live or visit New Jersey often and have an interest in the Weird. Also, the hiking. So many good hikes. So many that it’s become a project in itself (but don’t worry, NJhiking, I’m not trying to step on your toes). 2015 bought me the equipment I need to make this a reality, and other things I had never thought of exploring, so cheers to that.
2016 though. 2016 will be great. Yeah, Trump is the Republican frontrunner. Yeah, politics as usual. Yeah, all my friends want to be rich. Maybe I do too, but I figure I’m alright where I am regardless. Maybe my laptop is 8 years old. Maybe I’m drinking in Starbucks as I write this. But 2016 is gonna be alright. Already have a short story ready for publishing in some magazine out of Denver. Already threw up all over myself and had to call out of work, then drank the next night anyway. 2016.
I’m looking forward to not knowing. It’s par for the course, how I typically go about things. I don’t spend my days trying to better myself financially, which explains my current situation. But I learn. I learn every. Single. Day. I shit you not. I wake up thinking “What will I learn today?” and I go to sleep reflecting on whatever it is I learned. Most times, it’s utter nonsense that means something deeper to me and me only, but saying them out loud is a mistake I’ve made far too many times. Before 2016, of course.
When it ends, I’ll be older. Prophetic, right? With it comes experience, learning, adhering, raging, forgetting, embarrassing, tidying, and pummeling (hopefully not myself, right 2016?) There’s a long way to go. Much to learn. I have big plans for 2016, but what is there in store for me?
Please, please, just leave the 84 year old men in 2015 where they belong. Thanks much.