I can’t believe Christmas is over. All that build up, and BOOM…now it’s Boxing Day.

Speaking of which, shopping sounds fun. Lol.

The plan today is to chill for a while, then clean, and then eventually go out. We need to get out of this house. Dinner and drinks are on the agenda.

I’m a bit worried about Covid. It feels like everyone is getting it right now. But I’m triple vaccinated so I’m going to take my chances. I will not be limiting myself. I’m on borrowed time. I have to live my life. I know that’s selfish, but I don’t care.

2021 is almost over. It has been a mostly shitty year for us, but I’m still sad to see it go. Another year down. As of February, I’ll have been living (knowingly) with mets for two years. The median life expectancy after diagnosis is three years. I’m running out of time, babes. I’m not scared. I just want to squeeze as much joy out of life as I can. I’ve decided that 2022 will be the year of yes. Im going to step outside of my comfort zone and live, live, live.

2022 looms large. I’m going to fucking own it.