Remember all of those great things I was going to do this year? I didn't do any of them.
I was going to write more. I couldn't have written less. I was going to read War & Peace. I stopped lugging it around after a week or so (probably less than 50 pages in-Why the fuck did nobody tell me that half of it is in French???). I was going to be healthier. The clerks at the local Mcdonald's & Wendy's not only know me by name, they already have my order entered when they hear the signature tick tick ticking of my belagured engine in their drive-thru speaker. And yes, I was going to get that fixed too...
I was going to make more time for my friends and family. I can count one one hand the number of times I've seen my mother, brother and sister this year, and they all live within 10 minutes of me. I was going to make a better effort to move my relationship with Meg forward; most days anymore it seems like all we really are is roommates.
Life just gets in the way of good intentions sometimes.
Not that the past year has been a total loss. Meg and I are now in a house that, if all goes well, we will purchase in two and a half years thanks to my grandmother's generosity. I am gainfully employed (x2) which is more than I can say for, what, 7% of America right now? My last doctor's appointment revealed a suprisingly healthy person (good blood sugar & pressure, cholesterol, etc) is still hiding beneath all this extra insulation. I still have most of the hair on my head, and more and more on my back everyday.
I'm going to try blogging again. Maybe this time it'll stick.
-Joey
Oh, and I'm going to stop signing off with pretentious mood-revealing signatures. Because that really isn't me.
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