Monday, December 31

I suppose it's time for a year-end wrap-up. That's what you're supposed to do on December 31, isn't it? 2001 feels like it's been a wild year, and I'm not talking about what's going on in the world at large. In some ways, it feels as if I took my life, turned it upside down and shook. Not a lot of change fell out of the pockets, but things certainly didn't end up where I would have expected them to end up. There's the work front. An overnight promotion that had me managing a team of six (the Tweedle Twirp's words will forever stay with me: "Remember there's a difference between being a boss and being bossy"). Four managers in one year. A constant trickle of people I enjoy working with leaving the company. A decision to take a complete change of direction in my job. There's my personal life. Me getting married. What a concept. There's my writing. Lots of rejection letters. But lots of personal rejection letters, which in some ways is almost more frustrating (I'm tired of "your piece made it into the final round, but…"). Wrote a novel. I've gotten more fit over the year, running both a triathlon and a half-marathon. Things are great, but nowhere where I thought I'd be at 33.

I'm a little anxious about the upcoming year. New job. The wedding. The disappointment if Adam doesn't get into grad school. The stress of selling the house, finding a new one, getting a new job if he does. This will be an unsettling year. I guess I'm ready for it. I mean, I don't really have a choice, do I?

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