Happy 2019 to all my loyal readers! I must apologize for my absence in 2018, but from the latest Gallup poll, I’m sure your year sucked as much as mine. I was also quite absorbed in the machinations of the Mueller investigation because I love a good story of espionage and treason. It dates back to that episode of the Brady Bunch in my childhood where Peter experiences a moral dilemma when he has to play Benedict Arnold in the school play, but the whole family got a trampoline and traitors weren’t allowed on it. Or maybe that was the episode about Davy Jones.
As always happens around New Year’s, I get the email to renew my website. I had made up my mind that I was going to let it lapse and post a farewell message tonight because frankly I haven’t had the motivation to write in a long time. I pitched my screenplay exactly once this year. I convinced myself that it just wasn’t good enough. My stories had dried up for the blog. I began to think that maybe it was all just therapy for me, and now I didn’t need it anymore. The jokes had started repeating themselves, and the tone wasn’t as sharp and witty as in prior years. It was time.
I’m having second thoughts now. I am hopeful that 2019 is going to rise from the ashes of the dumpster fire and things will finally fall into place like a desk from Ikea with 236 parts. Maybe 2019 will bring inspiration. Maybe there are more stories to tell. Maybe my calling is still to write, but 2017 and 2018 just kicked my ass and I’d lost the will to live if it didn’t involve boxes of wine. God knows I still haven’t figured out my life purpose, so maybe writing still has something to do with it. I know this, though—I won’t keep it going if I can’t reconnect with my creative inner smartass. So stay tuned…but for now I will keep hope alive, but in a less pretentious way than a Barack Obama campaign slogan.
Normally I write a post on New Year’s Eve, given the dark significance the date has in my life. (PSA: Don’t get married on a major holiday.) I didn’t even open my laptop until after midnight. I worked hard this year on trying to purge any latent memories and ties to “that life.” I decided tonight that my “word” for 2019 is “DETACH.” And that’s what I feel tonight. “That life” feels like a lifetime ago. It’s been 10 years now. It’s not raw anymore. I barely remember it now, but there were still subtle connections I hadn’t cleared out. Like a stupid duvet cover that I bought the first year I was married, 18 years ago. It’s time to let it all go. So after copious amounts of sage in every crevice of my living space, I’m hopeful that the dark energies have been purged once and for all.
And if I needed a sign that I’m getting closer to rejoining the living–the ones who are content with their lot in life–there was this on my trip to Scotland in November:
I think the message is clear. In 2019 I need to chase after my Lucky Charms. Maybe in Ireland.