New years are always a weird mix of anticipation and fear. I mean, this was true even before the modern pandemic era, back when politics was bad but not the pure poison it seems to be these days.
Simpler times. Not better, I wouldn’t ever say that the past was better, but certainly simpler.
And as I embark on my 7th year of attempting to transition into full-time writing, I am again faced with the challenge of taking stock of everything I’ve done. Of my accomplishments, and my failings, and my struggles. The journey is far from over, and it feels most days like I’m making so little headway as to be considered stationary, but I am trying as hard as I can. I can’t do better than that.
Added to all this is the stress of January-ness, the post-holiday expenses, the new semester of classes and assignments… all in all, the month is just a mess. A stressful, depressing, worrisome mess.
But it’s not all bad. Right now it is snowing gently outside, I have three pizzas that I hand-made in the fridge (I love making pizza dough… it took me years, but I finally found a recipe I really like that gives rock-solid results), and I am caught up with all my school work for today. I’m going to spend a few hours trying to get a head of my work, since I have a bunch of assignments due on Thursday, but it’s a nice feeling to know I’m not behind in anything.
… except life. But hey, can’t win ‘em all just yet, I suppose.
Hope everyone out there is staying safe and healthy!