This hasn’t been my year.
I won’t go into details. I’ve tried writing it down a few times, and I can’t figure out a way to do it that doesn’t make my life sound like an overwrought Victorian melodrama. Not that I don’t adore that sort of thing – I’d just rather read it than live it.
I’ll put it this way: 2008 started with a funeral. On my birthday. And somehow, things managed to get worse as the year dragged on.
At the same time… I don’t know why or how, exactly, but I feel really good about 2009. Maybe it’s just the idea of a clean slate, of starting fresh. Whatever it is – superstition, a previously undiscovered optimistic streak – I can’t wait.




