This time last year, I was feeling ready. I was prepared for what the year would bring. I was going to fight them on the beaches, on the Twitters and on the tumblrs. Or so I thought. And then 2018 came at us like Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog and I ran away.
So this year I’m moving through like I’ve failed this level before and can’t quite tell where the hell all the poison darts come from. Is it the blue square? The yellow triangle? I don’t know, BUT I’M TIRED OF RUNNING HERE.
We’re a week in. So far, no poison darts, though The Other One has some sort of plague, and I think I might be getting sick too because I do want a lot more dairy and British television, which is usually what a cold looks like for me. Yes, I know it’s strange for humans, but it’s how it works for me, let me suffer alone with my cheese.
This year I’m trying to keep it simple. I want to finish this book. I’m so close, but life intruded and I’m just about at the point where I can politely ask it to put its shoes on and call it a night. I want to read The Malazan series, because what I really, truly want right now is just to escape wholesale into reading about heroes overcoming great odds when I’m not in the really real world. I want to try all the different kinds of honey cake I can find, because as usual, I seek more ways to learn about other cultures and perspectives and most importantly eat more cake.
I want to be kind, where “kindness” is elevating people who are low, seeking not to condemn things that do not impact me or others, and vociferously condemning things that do impact us negatively.
I want to make my office look like the rest of my house and not the pile of things to donate.
I will try to ease myself into all of this while cautiously examining the floor for hidden traps, ducking randomly in case the dungeon called 2019 just senses my over-confidence, and working off the last of 2018’s honey cake from my waistline.
What do you want in 2019?