I woke up the day after Christmas physically sore from the mental and physical gymnastics of getting everything ready for my girls with about four minutes to spare. And that seems like it happened years ago. Like, that happened! It’s like thinking back to the night I had sex for the first time, which was years ago, but the same sentiment applies: god that was awful, and I’d really never like to have to do that again, please. Luckily, I didn’t ever have to have sex for the first time again.
I’m sneaky like that.
In the end it was a success—Christmas, not having sex for the first time. That fell a hair short of being a success. I’d call it a “technical experiment that produced pedestrian results”. God, I hope he’s reading this. Anyway, when I think back on the whole of 2017 I feel the same way, that in the end I got through it. I could call it a success based solely on the fact that it wasn’t 2016, the year I fought a bear in the woods, gutted it, and then crawled inside its carcass to cry.
But I experienced a lot of joy in 2017, and I know that’s not a sensitive thing to express given that the last twelve months have seen events that have brought us to the brink of extinction. I was very privileged that my girls and I were not affected by a fire or a flood or a hurricane or a mass shooting or a policy change that would strip us of our basic human rights, to name just a smattering of what made 2017 such a shit show. I was worried we might lose our healthcare and then further worried that when premiums increased we’d be unable to afford it. But in the end I was able to find a plan that will protect me from going bankrupt should I ever be in a Starbucks and suddenly pass out. Shout out to the cohost of my podcast, John R. Bray, who recently got the bill for his ambulance ride to the hospital and a super comfy overnight stay that included not one but FOUR saltine crackers. You think your student loans are bad? Pass out in a Starbucks. Then you’ll learn bad.
At the beginning of last year I begrudgingly crawled out of that bear carcass, and with the help of my psychiatrist and ongoing support of my mother and stepfather began to put my life back together. The girls and I moved into a new, far more reasonable and comfortable home and settled into a rhythm that has brought us even closer together. I traveled to Montenegro, a part of the world I’ve never seen, visited family in Austin, made new friends in Aspen, hung out with old friends in NYC, and then spent three of the most fabulous weeks of my life in the most beautiful city in the world. And I am only writing all of this out because I am so thankful for these people and these places. If my time inside that bear carcass taught me anything, it’s this: life is fleeting. Also, cellular service inside a dead animal is spotty.
