I don't think I really got what the date was until I had a store clerk tell me.
Fucking hell. It's five days 'till Xmas. It's a bit over two weeks until the year turns and the turd-blossom that is 2016 leaves us for the potential shitstorm that is 2017.
So I'm digesting part of a deep-dish pizza and more than a few pints of my favorite beer on draught.
It's a Tuesday. I'm between drunk and buzzed and feeling a bit introspective. I'm impressed I can spell "introspective" right now. And "draught". I know too many Brits.
2016. You've been a remarkably shitty year. Yet I don't give you full credit. Thought I was going to lose a parent earlier this year. Didn't. Grateful for that. Thought some job-related things were going full-on-shitstorm. Turned out I benefited far better than I expected.
Got a few lessons out of 2016 that I'm grateful for, once I get past my bitching.
Still a shitty year, mind you. Not walking away from most of the crap. But it could be worse.
I'm looking forward to down-time for the rest of 2016. I'm looking forward to tucking away from the rest of the crazy. I'm hoping this isn't a cold I'm fighting. I'm wondering if I should open that bottle of High West Campfire I got the other day. I'm debating burning sick leave for the rest of the week.
2017 is going to have to be different in a number of ways. I need to get my shit together. I need to discard hangups that I've had for too long. I need to grow up a bit more.
May as well do it sometime.
I need to buy a new goddamn bookshelf. Christ. I have books stacked on books in my apartment. It's ridiculous.
I guess there's worse problems to have.
Probably ought to cut back on the deep-dish pizza, though. That's not doing me any favors.
So tasty, though...
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