The default opening line is, I think, that 2016 sucked. In a lot of ways, it did. In a lot of ways, it didn’t. It was just another year. And now, here we go again.
I find myself not as hopefully optimistic as I was in December, 2015. I find myself tired, mostly. I managed to move, which was a big life decision that I’d put off for longer than I probably should have. I went through a difficult time following that, but now have a stable job that’s within my field, even though I’m still getting used to it. I signed up for BookCon 2017, fought my way through some writer’s blocks, and am trying to keep up with my artistic hobbies, notably plush making.
I also saw a lot of disappointment and heartbreak in the social and political spheres, though it pales in comparison to others’. I feel time slipping through my fingers and there’s just never enough of it to get everything accomplished during the day, and especially not at night. I need a set schedule. I can’t seem to find it.
And I’m just tired.
It’s been a long, blurry year, and I’m dragging my feet towards 2017.
I’m hoping it will get better. There are some things that I’m not going to let myself put off any longer. There are some things that I will but I won’t beat myself up over them. It takes what it takes.
And we keep living anyway.