Let’s be honest, I’ve been a bit of a mess.
I graduated 8 months ago and I still don’t have a job. I mean, sure, they say that the job market is difficult right now and I sort of believe them, but also who the fuck are “they?” I have a strong suspicion that “they,” this group of furrowed brows and sage nodding, say the same thing all the time to the unemployed to make them feel better regardless of the actual state of the job market. No, it’s too easy to blame it on society at large. I really really want to, which leads me to believe that “they” are nothing more than a projection of self-justification.
The truth is, I haven’t been trying hard enough. I could be doing so much more, searching more extensively, pursuing connections more persistently, instead of sitting on my ass and waiting for the world to fall into my hands. Especially since I didn’t win the powerball jackpot.
I also haven’t been writing. Supposedly my passion, supposedly something I’m good at, and I haven’t been doing it enough. I’m in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and clean air and deafening solitude. It’s what every writer wants! I should’ve cranked out several novels’ worth of material by now. But I didn’t. And I’m pissed at myself.
Which is why I’m going to make 2016 my bitch.
This is the year that gets me out of this anti-social lumberjack’s wet dream. I’m going to get myself a goddamn job. Earn a living, pay off some student loans, get my own apartment. Be independent, save some money. Travel somewhere I’ve never been, try things I’ve never tried, and meet people I never would’ve met if I had just stayed at home watching the new Netflix original series. I’m going to step out of my comfort zone, live a life worth living, eat, pray, and fucking love, read a thousand books, learn Spanish and Farsi, punch Donald Trump in the face, skydive, invent a new sport called sky-ba wherein you wear full scuba gear and skydive into a coral reef, drive across the United States, tame a leopard, build a bear, and write a goddamn book.
I am a writer. And to prove it to you and to myself, I’ll be writing in this blog every single day from now on. Sometimes it’ll be some horrible writing because I’ll just be spewing out some nonsensical half-formed thoughts in order to keep my promise. But it’ll be there and I think that’s more important for me. And this year, it has to be all about me.
2016, you’re mine.