A new year. An old one gone. Regrets. New promises. Who the hell knows what’ll happen. At least I know the world won’t end; apparently this isn’t the first time the Mayan Calendar reached the end of its cycle – it’s the 13th. It’s just that there wasn’t Internet on the 12th ending to spread the word of impending doom and chaos and oh-noes-we’re-gonna-burn-up-in-a-fiery-sun-ball.
2011….I left the state I’d been in all my life. I left a job I really disliked. My hubs is now the bacon-bringer with me pulling in the occasional bagel. Some have said that me not having a proper job is bad for me, the lacking of a schedule/routine and all that. We moved into a house when we moved and we thought it would be grand. Except…we’re renting. Normally not a huge deal. Except the property is shared with others who rent commercial-type garage bays and they are not at all what was expected when we signed the lease. They’re here too much, too close, too loud, too irritating. The house is drafty, as old houses are. My long-held dreams of hardwood floors have been shattered as I realize that cat fur and wood floors requires more vacuuming more often than my back can tolerate! I’ve also discovered that I am a shitty housewife and would make an even shittier stay at home mom. Or a mom at all for that matter. But yet I’m starting to feel the mid-life crisis of “Will anybody give a shit about us when we’re gone?” because without children to care about your photos and your antiques and your crap, who else will? Sometimes I think of making photo albums in grand ways but then realize….it’ll be for me, sure, but then who? Nobody. I’m currently aimless and without purpose. No mark to leave on the world in 40 years.
2011 has shown me changes in my social life. Namely, I don’t have much of one and I miss some people. Ah well. I’ve disappointed myself a lot in 2011. I got off the “diet”, first with a bad injury and then the move. 2011 also gave me clarity in a way – the way of loss. The flood at my mother’s where a lot was ruined or lost. I have a dining room table and foyer full of photos and negatives and supplies as I tried to save the packets that got wet….and quickly failed. Now they sit. Mocking me and my failure. But also it’s too hard. Too many ghosts that I can’t deal with. She’s back in her home now just in time for Christmas but merely driving down the long country highway to her house clenches my heart and wells at my eyes. Months later there are still too many signs of the destruction. A shed uprooted and wedged on it’s side in between a tree and another shed. Clothes and debris in tree branches. Bare foundations. But then I see the news and I see what a mid-west tornado looks like and how those people have nothing left. Or a fire. And I can’t even fathom dealing with that. Seeing my mom’s new house ruined and torn back to its studs and a mountain of tangible memories or just old shoes in a garbage pile in the driveway was bad enough. Heartbreaking enough.
2012. Moving on. I’m going to try to get some balance back in my body. For Christmas I got a sunlight-replacement lamp and a FitBit. I’m doing my best to beat this insomnia without the use of benzo’s but it’s slow going. I’ve got my sites on new, clean tracks: Wanton Wednesday posts are scheduled up for a couple months; e[lust] and the new schedule are up and running, the photo submissions idea is working quite nicely and I finally implemented SEO crap on the site that I should have done ages ago but didn’t – so traffic is increasing slowly thanks to that. I finally updated my blogroll here, spruced up the contact methods to attempt to eliminate some of the headaches of emails I don’t want, I optimized the site so that it might load a little faster and hope to find a new direction for posting.
Alrighty. Time to stop procrastinating today. Time to clean and reorganize my big desk and the office room in general, so that I can find sex toys when I need them or just so that they aren’t haphazardly laying around like they are now. Hopefully the oil man comes shortly, because I’m cold and we’re nearly bone-dry. Time to go cook my first turkey just for the hell of it.