So yeah over the past 5 years i've managed to "accidentally" keep myself busy with a whole bunch of chaos over this time of year. In 2006 i was out of work and all excited from having just moved to Melbourne, which rapidly turned to frustration at my roommates and an increasing sense of isolation after a death no one got. In 2007 i don't even know what the fuck, i was drinking a lot, hating my job but trying to stay in it so i could get transferred to Silicon Valley, pondering the point of my relationship with M, writing letters that never got sent. In 2008 i was days away from flying off to Canada to visit J for the first time. You know, why not turn everything upside down again right after my birthday? Sure, by then it was tradition. I don't even know if i booked that date consciously. Last year our house was empty and i was all set for our move to Canada. Hey, whatever, right? Fuck.
The crazy thing is that even without a steady job this year's been the most stable, which i guess has let me be the most in touch and it's just fucking killing me. The more i get my shit together the more shit fucking kills me, i just don't get it. You know what else is coming up this year is my 10 year anniversary of surgery so woo fucking hoo for that bullshit too. It's like the older you get the more shitty dates there are in the year, i mean you can't just sit around being miserable every goddamn month because something terrible happened once upon a time. Can you? Jesus!