I want to write about how lovely today is, how terribly windy it was on my drive in, but how eerily clear the 10 was and how it made me almost forget how many hours I've spent on that road this year.
I want to tell you that after I leave work there is a family & dinner waiting for me and lovely heart-felt presents underneath a tree wrapped in a string of popcorn & cranberries.
I want to tell you that I'm not going to be lonely and that this was "one of the best years...ever!" and that "I can't wait for what's next!"
I want to tell you that I'm sorry our Christmas postcard is a little late this year but "don't worry! it should be arriving shortly"
You know that I can't.
Though today is still lovely, and the freeway was clear, there is no family dinner or tree or best year or postcard coming. It's just how it is right now.
And while I keep encouraging myself, hopeful for the inevitable "it can only get betters" next year, I must confess that most days it leaves me feeling orphaned and drained, pulling myself up by my own bootstraps and reading inspirational quotes trying to desperately flounder at the surface of the metaphorical ocean of life.
I'm sorry these aren't the most positive feelings, especially on such a meaningful day. They are honest though, so I guess there's that.