Less than Twelve Hours Left…

As the “worst” year draws to a close I struggle to find something profound or remotely poetic to say in this here space. Alas kind four readers, I’ve got nothing. I am weary to the bone from the events of the last ten months. And, as if Covid, insanity politics, riots destroying cities, cancel culture, friends who have unexpectedly passed and loved ones who have lost so much, the life-quake still residing in the basement, and a host of other little p.i.t.a. issues…as if those weren’t enough...

….my “rock” gets pink-slipped. How on earth does that happen with years of rave performance reviews?

Indeed, this year has been one Stink, Stank, Stunk after another.

Full disclosure; it’s not as if my husband didn’t see this coming months ago when a reorganization literally dumped him into the wrong division. He’s been clamoring to get out of said division and back into his areas of expertise since, even as desks and business units played musical chairs with people’s livelihoods. But now, at the wise young age of sixty-three he’s considered a “pale stale male.” I probably need not elaborate. Still, he never envisioned getting a pink slip. And, although inching ever closer towards contemplating the next chapter, we weren’t quite ready to make big changes.

Now, along with trying to navigate the life-quake and other family issues, we are trying to figure out what IS next. We’ll sail through it and land on the other side says my rock. He is ever the optimist and I am thankful for those reassuring words even If I struggle to believe. Covid of course continues to make it quite difficult to investigate options. Plans to travel this year and check out potential places to hang ones’ hat for a spell have been dashed of course.

Last year this time we were spending the day with sis and family. In her cozy basement family room we ate ourselves silly and raised bottles of champagne to the new year as we danced jigs and blew on our party horns like little kids. This year we’re laying low in our own abodes. I tell sis I’m probably not going to watch the ball drop with Ryan Seacrest. I get that he aims to bring “fun” into our homes but honestly, I’m not up to listening to President-Elect Biden incoherently blather on about healing and unity.

So, today as I scrolled through Facebook over early morning coffee I see this meme by self-help guru and blogger Mark Manson. I’ve not read his books but occasionally I stop and read his insights on FB in an effort to find something (anything) useful to impart on the man-child residing–OH SO TEMPORARILY– in the basement. Like I don’t know this already…but yes, It speaks to me in my present state and of course, gives me pause.

So here we come 2021. I’ve got a few more hours to wallow in my little pity party and then, as the ball drops– as God is my witness– I endeavor, with every fiber of my being, to move the F**K on, even if I have to fake it.

Seriously folks, I am praying for an infinitely better year ahead. From my heart to yours, may 2021 bring you peace, love and joy and keep you in the best health possible.

9 thoughts on “Less than Twelve Hours Left…

  1. So sorry to hear about the pink slip. What a shock! Hopefully something new (and better) will arrive on your horizon soon.

    Years ago I learned the importance of moving the ‘eff’ on though it’s often easier said than done. As I typically reflect on the past year on New Year’s Eve rather than attend any celebration, I also learned that a small amount of ‘liquid anesthesia’ is sometimes required when moving on (it seems to work so easily for the dogs, maybe I should aspire to imitate them more this coming year-just shake it off and then pee over it–that last part not literally of course). Cheers to you for a healthy, kinder, and gentler 2021 🥃

    Liked by 1 person

    • Happy New Year! Yes, we did some imbibing last night over a wonderful dish of tagliatelle with proscuitto and peas. Alas, we did not quite make it to midnight (11:38 to be exact). We will be doing the “dry January” thing again this year (starting today) and so coffee, tea and San Pelligrino will be have to suffice through any particularly challenging occurrences sure to develop in the next 3o days. May the new year wrap you and yours in peace, love, joy and optimal health.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Goodness, I am so sorry about Doug. If I can do anything please let me know. We will have an extra room or two out in Sedona. Come on out for a visit when it’s safe to travel. You are always welcome my friend. My heart goes out to you guys

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  3. 2020 can just go sit and spin… what a crappy way to end the year (pink slip). I imagine that you and your “rock“ are pretty resilient and will find some sort of silver lining in that wet blanket. Sends love and hugs from the other side of the country (4 hours after you get to 2021😁)

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  4. Oh Cristina, it has been a year for the books! I count my blessings every day trying to deal with all the ugliness and sorry around me. When I hold my grandson, all is right in my world. I think of y’all often. Emily

    Liked by 1 person

    • OMG…Emily….A grandson! I’d completely forgotten that was on the horizon…and now here! Congratulations to all! What a joy! Enjoy your newest “role” in this life and cherish, which I know you will, every moment. Love and best wishes for a happy and healthy new year!

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