As I am sitting here writing this, I’m sick and doing my best to just get things done and taken care of. I’m in the middle of moving, so there are boxes and bags of garbage everywhere. I have my puppy, Riley, chewing on a bone gifted to her after one of the fancier dinners I’ve gone to recently. And for the first time in about five months, my room is mostly clean – minus the clutter from getting things organized in the move effort.
I’m also just, in this weird ambivalent state between emotions. I’m not happy, but I am also not depressed. I cry at the drop of the hat but have also smile with this foreign ease.
2022 was a lot. December was a lot. Thankfully it was nowhere near as difficult or traumatizing as last December was. But there was still trauma. There are still things I’m struggling with. But December had a lot of good in it. I cooked a great meal for my friends for a Friendsgivingmas dinner. I hosted Christmas for my family and made it as special as I possibly could. And I completed UCLA Extension’s Paralegal Program. I won’t know how I did until later this month, but I am fairly confident that I passed the program.
The only goal I am making this year is to read 25 books. That’s it. I miss reading stories. I also want to save money while I can, since my rent is about to decrease by several hundred dollars. There are other things I really want to do – lose weight, go to places, ect ect. But, I don’t think making that an annual goal is healthy. I know I want those things. I’ve always wanted some of them.
The biggest thing I want from 2023 is health. My health is why I’m moving. I received a bunch of new diagnoses in 2022, and I collapsed 4 times in the past 6 weeks. I need to get healthier. I have Riley. Riley needs me healthier.
There is more I want to say, but my brain is fizzing and I think that it might be time for more flu medication.
I’m still me. I’m still the same person I was a year ago, two years ago. A little different, but still me.
Shpunkey 