I’m not usually one for New Year celebrations. It’s 9pm on New Year’s Eve and I’m in bed, not surprising to most people who know me. It’s always been a weird concept for me that people celebrate the year end or the start of a new year when for me it doesn’t really make a difference. I mean, school isn’t over, fiscal year runs til March, it’s sucky January. WTF is there to celebrate?????
Then 2016 came along…
If you haven’t heard of Phoenix then consider yourself lucky. It’s a new pay system for Federal Government employees and it has been the bane of my existence. One the days I’m not screaming at my computer then someone is probably lined up outside my office to complain. I’ve been worn down to the final strands of sanity that I so desperately cling to most times anyway. I’ve been yelled at, hounded on my days off and after hours, tracked down via FB, and don’t forget those two very fun times when I was secretly stalked by that super awesome co-worker who thought it was “funny” to sneak up to my door and hide just so he could listen to what I was saying and try to catch me talking shit. The funniest part of all that is I’m very open about the shit I talk…just ask me next time ok?
I moved, which was THE BEST DECISION EVER…but led to some very stressful times of adjustment.
My grandfather had a major surgery. I was designated as his person for the duration of his hospital stay. It was not an easy task. Nobody should ever have to sit by and watch a loved one struggle so deeply with pain and breathing tubes in the ICU. That day changed me. I can’t even put it in words how traumatizing that was for me. Maybe because it was my Poppy, maybe because I’ve lived such a fortunate life that I am 35 and still have my grandparents to talk to every day,
WebMD has been my best friend in trying to diagnose my own health issues. Low iron, high calcium, high PTH levels, non-existent vitamin D levels, kidney stones, stomach pains, nothing crazy, just enough to drive me even more insane than usual. (It’s actually diagnosed, Primary Hyperparathyroidism)
My dad died. Never thought I would ever actually care but, go figure, it’s opened a whole new can of whoop-ass in the feelings department…and they won’t go away.
It was actually better for me just thinking he was out in the world somewhere being a dick to someone other than me. Leave me with a tiny bit of hope that someday he would show up and actually be nice. Maybe apologize or something. Now he’s just my dead dad. The dead dad that left shit wide open. Not much closure other than at least now I don’t have to worry about him finding the kids when they visit PEI.
Throw in the usual family drama, friend drama and then Donald Trump and well, I’m so over 2016. I get it now. I get how some people just want to leave an entire year behind them and move on to a new one with celebration. It wasn’t all bad of course, but enough is enough.
Bring on 2017, with immense anticipation of (hopefully) good things to come.