Holy shit…I made it.

It’s bittersweet, being in the year I’m convinced will be my death year. I’m feeling rough this morning (lots of pain) but I’m thankful to be here. The kids are home, and later we will eat sushi and play board games. Sounds like a good start to the year.

We were supposed to go to a party last night, but ended up staying home because I was unwell. We watched When Harry Met Sally and The Apartment. We had a champagne toast at midnight. It was chill and fun. It felt good to know we can still have fun together, despite everything.

We were going to take the Christmas stuff down today, but neither of us is ready to give it up just yet. Neither of us believe we will be putting it up together again later this year. So we will continue to enjoy it for a while longer. There’s certainly no harm in that.

The holiday break is almost over, and I’m sad. I’ve enjoyed having everyone at home so much. The good news is that Jackson will be here for the next 10 days while his dad travels. I’m excited about that.

And now the big question: what will be my first read of the year? I want it to be something special. It sets the tone, after all. I have a stack of books on hand with some promising stuff, but these decisions tend to immobilize me for a bit. I take it way too seriously. Especially when I consider that I won’t get to everything I want to read, so I need to choose wisely.

That’s enough rambling for now.

Happy New Year! ♥️

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