A Year Of Violent Change

I used to look forward to New Year's Day. Partying, hanging out with friends, maybe having your drink on. It was a way to say good riddance to the year that's about to die and hope, however sarcastically, that the next was going to be better.

I used to look forward to New Year's Day, but no more. Now I can't get over getting over because I'm preoccupied with what is going to happen before New Year's Eve. I haven't realized it until now, but the end of the year is a great time to make changes. Not all of them have I liked. And this year, I have liked very, very little.

I think there are three major events that mark my 2011: My sister getting married; my parents saying they are closing The Store; and my Grandmother's worsening health. Obviously I'm overjoyed by the first. But the other two? As inevitable as those may be, I am still devastated by the news.

As I think I've said before, I resist change so much that when it happens -- and oh yes, it happens -- it comes suddenly, violently, and all at once. I still don't think it feels any better if I pace the changes through the days, but as I'm juggling the impending death of The Store and worry over Grandmother's health, this type of change sucks.

There is one overarching "event" that I'm still going through: That I turned 35. I still don't have a steady job. I still live with my parents. I am in a state of arrested development. I'm actually OK with it most days. But days like this, when we're supposed to turn the page, I'm thinking to myself, What the fuck is wrong with me.

And yet, will I change? No, because I'm going through too much change, too much awful change right now. What I'm going through is all I can take, and I don't think I should have to change who I am. But will it be enough?

Why can't things just stay the same? Why can't we just freeze time and enjoy every minute? Why can't The Store stay open? Why can't Grandmother keep all her money and not accuse me of stealing her checks?

Because it's not reality.

Now, at least right now, to me, New Year's represents abrupt change that I rubberneck before forces force me onward, like traffic passing by a car crash. The car crash is my life. I wish I had a better 2011, but frankly, it was a goddamn dumpster fire. No thanks.

And the worst part of it all? I have no fucking idea what 2012 has in store for me. Yes, I can wait.

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It's tradition, at least with me, to go out and see friends at my friends' parents' opulent mansion in St. Paul. This year, though, I'm apparently going to go through a snowstorm, our first in this otherwise warm, snowless winter, to get there. (I woke up at 10 after 3 1/2 hours of sleep.) A literal car crash would be a great way to wind up the year, you know?

Happy New Year. Yay.