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Two More Days

The final week of 2016 is proving to be quite challenging as everything decided to run amok and go awry all at the same time. I woke up Tuesday morning feeling like the desperate sailors on the ship Jonah was on, and my endless stream of phone calls, lists, budgets, and text messages is my own version of casting lots, a tool proving as useful as other forms of divination. Most of the answers are still blowing in the wind.

Basically, all I want to do is curl up on the couch under a blanket and watch Roseanne reruns for days. I turned to the sitcom following my mother's death, and it's the one thing I crave when I need comfort. You know the yule log video of a fireplace that gives you the feeling of sitting in front of an open flame? Having the Connors on my television is like sitting in their living room, and it all feels so familiar to me.

I guess that's the point of comfort, huh? It's a piece of familiarity that grounds us in the midst of the unknown. For me, right now, there's the immediate unknown of deciding what to do with my vehicles, my dog, and my refrigerator. There's also the far-reaching unknown that spans to the far reaches of the universe. I'm not sure which is most responsible for the sheer exhaustion I feel and the tears that don't seem to stop.

What I do know, is that I hope 2017 is a better year for me. I entered third decade of my life with so much hope. I'm ending it with an equal degree of despair.

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