My final blog post in 2020 was titled, “Fast away the old year passes”. This year, I’m even more over it than I was then, and I wish the year would just GO already.
I said last year that “I hope we get a much better year in 2021,” but it kinda didn’t work out that way. For me, last year was the third crappy year in a row—some of it being so very bad that it needs a descriptor far worse than any that mere profanity can possibly provide—and that, too, is for the third year in a row.
So, this year, once again, I can’t wait to see the back of the fading year. I’d like to say I’m hopeful that 2022 will be better, but, after three bad years in a row, I’m too cautious to even think that. Instead, I’ll just say I hope to feel better, be better, and do better in 2022. That I can control, that I can affect. The rest of the world? No. For that, all I can do is hope for better times ahead.
2021 will be over in fifteen minutes, and I’m so very glad about that. I know plenty of other people are, too. But as 2021 recedes, there's one sincere and genuine wish I can make, and it's this: May none of us feel this way one year from tonight.
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