I’m a day late [on my deadline] and another year older [in exactly one week]. I have a lot to reflect on and even more to look forward to. First and foremost, I want to give a shout-out to my anxiety for being consistent AF this past year. With that, I have to give “mad props” (are we still using that phrase?) to my girlfriend for consistently dealing with the aforementioned anxiety and constantly reminding me of how incredibly lucky I am. Another shout-out goes to my cats, Luna and Celine-Dion, who continue to keep my heart warm and occasionally give it palpitations.
The last year of my twenties is on the horizon, my friends. Any advice? Because 28 was a bit of a doozy. Don’t get me wrong, it definitely had some solid highlights: I went to my 10-year high school reunion, I celebrated three years of doing “it” with the love of my life (“it” being love AND the sex,) and I performed a Beyonce song with three of my favorite human beings in front of over 1,000 other humans I’m not completely familiar with yet … just to name a few. On the other hand, I did lose some friends. They didn’t die, but they must be under the impression that I have. Alas, I have not, but the lesson hath been learned. The old friends are still invited to my funeral, of course. I’d like them to be pallbearers so they can let me down one last time.
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