Well.
Oh boy.
That was um… something, wasn’t it? 2016. Mmm.
As this year has been slowly, painfully, dragging its sorry sore arse to the bitter end, I’ve been thinking about the 'Twenty Fixteen' post I wrote at the end of 2015, all about how WONDERFUL and BADASS and PRODUCTIVE and PROGRESSIVE 2016 was going to be. I wrote some resolutions and I had dreams and goals and unfathomable amounts of hope to achieve them, and as I sit here now, in my crumb-filled dent of the bed where I spend most of my days, I’m hovering over that post with held breath and eyes squinted because…
MY GOD WASN’T 2016 FUCKING AWFUL? JESUS. FUCK. I MEAN, REALLY, GOOD GOD WHAT ON EARTH WAS THAT??? WHO SENT IT??? SHITTING HECK. YOU BASTARD.
So, here goes. Looking back at my resolutions for, what established itself pretty quickly as, the year of the depths of fiery hell.