my dear acquaintance, a happy new year

It’s Christmas day, the chief delight of which, for me, is that Christmas is now practically over. I can finally stop stiff-upper-lipping it and settle in to enjoy my actual favorite time of year: New Year’s.

New Year’s has been my preferred holiday since 2010, when I made a resolution for the first time (finish my novel by May) and succeeded in keeping it. Also, my birthday is on the 22nd. Having a January birthday kind of reinforces the sensation that everything starts over fresh in the first month of the year.

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(The author’s mental image of January, as a concept. Peaceful, no?)

2014 was a strange year for me. I remember it starting off well. I did a lot of reflecting last Christmas, and I came to some sobering and potentially useful realizations about myself. It felt like the beginning of a new period of sanity. I was optimistic about what the next twelve months would bring.

That didn’t last.

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Recovery

Since the last time I updated here, I’ve moved to a new apartment.

Like all the moves I’ve made in the last year, it was in no way planned. Back in July, I took an upstairs room in a house owned by a woman three years younger than me, purchased for her by her parents. She lived in the basement apartment and rented out the three upstairs bedrooms. The ground floor was a shared space, containing the kitchen, living room, dining room, and access to the back deck.

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The dollhouse I made a year ago to memorialize my many issues with housing. 

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