Jan 04

A year in the life

In march I learned I value a schedule.
A really full schedule, with a plate piled high with things to do.
Because not having a schedule means free time
And free time means thinking and procrastinating.
And I could not think- for then I would procrastinate
And I could not procrastinate because then 
Absolutely nothing of value would get done.
Only worthless, time consuming hobbies.

In the summer I learned worthless hobbies are valuable.
In fact I discovered my march hobbies became my september drive.
The only thing that got me through september of 2020 
Was those hobbies.
Writing, reading, music, sleeping (yes, I consider that a hobby).
And I loved every minuet of it.
It made this year less hard
Because something good came out of it.
My own confidence.
And my own voice.

In the last month I learned I’m a social butterfly.
I came to this conclusion after calling multiple people in a day,
“Hey whats up?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you need.”
Some company I’d say in my head.
But out loud I’d just say I’m checking in.
And two hours later I believe I have thoroughly run out of words.
A huge smile on both faces. 

Two weeks ago I realized I was tired.
So tired.
Of the year, of the month, of the day that literally echoed 
Over and over and over again. 
With nothing of great importance in between.
Tired the world was on hold and on repeat and kinda idiotic.
But,
But.
Two weeks ago I realized I am blessed.
In so many ways that It would take a novel to write it all down in a twelve point font.
Thankful for what I have,
Thankful for what I don’t have.
OK with all the inbetween.

Usually for the new year I cry.
Around 12:01 I shed a tear that another year has gone by
That I’m older and still need to accomplish something
That I’m wiser and know more and appreciate more.
And this year I didn’t cry.
I would have thrown a dresser at 2020 if I could.

But I think this year needs to be remembered.
For all that was lost
For all that was gained
For everything that happened- it needs to be written down.

 And yesterday I realized when you snap 
The noise is your middle finger hitting your ring finger.
Your thumb has nothing to do with it.
I have so many things I still need to learn.
About the Author: Treblemaker
I write because the music of language spoke to me in books and I wanted to make a beautiful noise to answer back ~ Lee Williams.
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