F@#% You 2016 -or- So Long, 2106, I’m Outta Here *mic drop*

F@#% You 2016 -or- So Long, 2106, I’m Outta Here *mic drop*

I’m sitting on the couch, post-Christmas mayhem, amidst a mountain of overpriced children’s toys, . pivoting and repositioning thanks to a piece of Lego that’s worked its way under my a$$. I’m staring at my keyboard committed to coming up with nice things to say about this past year… but… it ain’t easy. 2016 has been tough. Not so much for my family, but the media has had a field day with it, what with all the celebrity deaths, Aleppo and that Donald Trump guy.

Although 2016 has had it out for a lot of people, it was relatively kind to us. This year has seen my girls graduate one grade and advance into another at school. My wife’s business has had its best year ever. I had a great year at work too, officially recognized for my efforts, and I’m in virtually the best shape I’ve ever been in, although these past few days have been most punishing thanks to the Toblerone and Quality Street chocolate companies… and my sister-in-law’s homemade sticky toffee pudding. No complaints though. 

I’m pretty sure that if I put any amount of effort into it I could come up with a list of personal reasons to scowl at 2016. But I won’t. I choose to say it is what it is, or was, and just move the hell on. I’m an incurable optimistic. I don’t fret much over things I can’t change or have no control over. And when shit hits the fan, I deal with it and move on. 

It’s too bad human beings aren’t equipped with the foresight to know when it’ll all be over for us. Maybe this way we wouldn’t sweat the small things and we’d choose our battles more carefully. Notwithstanding our inherent ability to complain about things that are beyond our control, I choose to look to 2017 with a sense of hope. And as for my new years resolution? Same as last year’s… 2560x1440dpi.

All the best to you and yours in 2017!! So long 2016!

Our 5 year-old daughter wasn’t flipping me the bird in the above photo. She had been complaining about a hangnail which prompted me to ask her, “which finger?”