A Year of Fridays

I have always felt that my life tends to run in seven year patterns. It works a bit like a really long week, a day to a year from when you were born, and it follows a similar theme. That means for me 2023 is a Friday.

Those of you who know me will know how difficult the past few years have been. PTSD, Covid, depression, and a divorce will do that to you I guess. So when last year began I started the long process of healing. I worked harder than I ever have on growth, on healing, and figuring out who I really was. It took a lot, and I made mistakes now and then, but I worked hard on a Thursday for the hope of a rewarding Friday.

Friday years are historically good ones. The last one saw me get back into uni, meet someone I'd eventually marry, and saw the start of a very long series of adventures. Of course none of that worked out in the end... but in the beginning it felt so, so good. And I won't deny it, it was fun as hell. It felt like that grand moment right when the work week ends and you step out of the office. It was freedom.

I'm tired now, and I mean ~really~ tired. After so much work, I desperately need this year to be good. I'm striking out early, looking for a new career, new friends, and a new city. More than that though, I'm looking for a purpose. I know it's rooted somewhere in the experiences and the creativity ahead of me, so I'll keep looking. Friday is a day for hope after all.

I'll just say this now, to put it out into the world: I think I deserve a little happiness, a little love, a little good. Even if it's only for a while.