Startling conclusion when I was going to a party last night: I can't really remember much of what happened to me in 2010, and I don't know if I could encapsulate the year with a theme. I don't know why or if I'm just failing to think hard enough, but the year, when I look back on it as I near death, is just a blur.
I didn't do anything substantial, besides writing more seriously, I guess. Didn't go back to work, though I tried, Lord I tried. Nothing really bad happened to me, although some really shitty raw deals happened to me family-wise. Didn't lose anyone -- although I got some bad news about a family member, more details later. Didn't get laid, though paid for a hell of a lot of sex acts. Didn't really accomplish anything awesome, either.
Steady as she goes, possibly, for me in 2010. What I've always feared is that my actions would cause me to lose something, whether it be someone close to me or some material thing I prized or even a goal I've had for myself. Of course, they always say you can't get really get anywhere without risking something. I certainly haven't gotten anywhere, but I haven't lost it all, either. I'm hanging on to a level of medicore, or acceptable, quality of life, and I'm either clueless or content.
Maybe I should ask more for myself in 2011, but I know that if it's like 2010, I'm A-OK with that.
Happy New Year!
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