Given the necesity of being awake and coherent at 8:30 AM PST for work these days, you’re likely reading this after I’ve done my chin on chest act due to one glass too many of our cheap friend Charles Shaw.
Not to be an ungrateful bastard, but I’d rather kick this year right out and leave its crap on the porch for it to pick up next week — and no, I will not be leaving a key out for you, 2008. While there were quite a few personal triumphs and the start of good professional news, much of it was an overwhelming amount of reminders of aging way too quickly for my taste and rather dismaying matters concerning current employment (these had nothing to do with personal job performance, more with the dismal state of media these days) — and some personal failures that aren’t fit to publish here.
Also, I went from posting an insane amount here to barely being able to crank out a post a day, which is probably a consequence of switching shifts so damn often, never mind being contracted to write for others (happily, I might add). So that’s a minor victory, earning some cash for the efforts here. However, it doesn’t help with the stress of the idea of considering moving once again — and questioning whether I’m the type to be this itinerant for the rest of my working life.
That said, I’m bound to get off on the right foot again. I don’t do resolutions any more because I have this nasty tendency to break them, so that’s really all one can ask on the occasions when you indulge in self-reflection.
Happy New Year, everyone.
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