Wait, it’s 2014!
Now, let us never speak of 2013 again. Clearly, the 13th year of a millennium is like the 13th floor of a building- leave it blank in the history books. The number of friends who’ve told me this was the “worst year” of their lives is staggering. It was certainly the worst year of mine and one I barely escaped. I’m only as superstitious as most of those with a poetic temperament, which is to say extremely so, and finally decided in October that something needed to be done to fix this year-long slough of despond. About the time of my birthday (send gifts! NOW!), I decided I’d had enough of this 2013 business and declared the damned year was ending early. On October 31st, I threw an impromptu New Year’s Eve party at a local pub and bought everyone drinks, wore a silly hat, wished them all a Happy New Year, and declared the start of 2014 at the stroke of midnight. It worked like a charm. Within a week, I’d moved off my bandmates’ couch into a house with a friend of mine who lives an adult life, thank god. Soon, many of the women we know from the pub were offering to help me learn life skills like meal preparation and grocery shopping that Mr. Grad Student never got around to learning. And then, mid-November, I met a woman who is currently beguiling me quite a bit, quite a very bit, and perhaps I her too. I think the lesson here is that reality is only a problem if you let it be. Also, I very strongly suspect that those of you who adhere to the standard Western calendar will find 2014 enriching and rewarding and happy enough to throw several shovelfuls of dirt onto 2013, whatever that was.