starting year 38

Year 37 wasn’t easy, and I’ve been sort of vaguely dreading the future. In the last year the grey hairs have become constant, my eyesight has gotten to a point where I take off my glasses to read up close…I would say that I’ve got more general aches and pains, but really: I was in a car crash last November, which I’ve written about a couple of times, and it took more out of me, physically and emotionally, than I really would’ve expected. December is sort of a vague blur. I let the yard go wild this summer, and now quite a bit of it is a carpet of morning glory. Which is pretty, but overwhelming.

And now I’m the same age that my mother was when my father died, which is disconcerting in its own way.

I haven’t been writing, not here or much of anywhere, for quite a while. (I keep trying to remember if I started NaNoWriMo last year, but I think that work — another fantasy novel — was in 2010, not 2011.)

Not too much biking either, given that the new job is a much more difficult commute than the old one, and also given the crash. (I had to make some adjustments to my bike to make it more comfortable.)


On the other hand.

I had a month off in April/May, which was pretty awesome. Hadn’t had that much time off since I graduated from college. Didn’t get very far on my ominous to-do list, but I got a lot of rest.

And I went from that to my New! Job! — which yes, I’m still excited about. Working for a boss I’ve known for eight years, and negotiating that relationship really well. Figuring out my job, getting to do more of the things I like and am good at, and fewer of the things that I dread. Feeling like I’m doing things that are useful, engaged in something that’s a plus for society. I also got to have a pretty big role in picking the third member of our team, who starts next month.

Then there’s knitting, which is pretty cool — fun and relaxing, and I’ve made some nice things — and canning, which means I have homemade jam in the winter, and that helps keep my spirits up.


I started that two days ago (on my actual birthday), and couldn’t figure out how to finish the post — plus IIRC I was at the end of my bus ride home. Which is a reasonably good metaphor for where I’ve been at lately. Feeling as though there are too many things going on, too many things unfinished and interrupted.

I didn’t write about D&D, which has been a fairly notable part of my life this last year, altho somewhat erratically. I was in one game that sort of fell apart, another that trailed off, and I’m currently playing one game (Pathfinder) and running another (AD&D 1st edition). It can be both a good way to blow off steam, an excellent creative outlet, and yet another source of OMG I HAVE TOO MUCH TO DO.

Which reminds me: this last year I also cut waaaaay back on my volunteering: resigned as Secretary of the neighborhood association, left the board of the Friends of the Library, and didn’t go for another term on the Bicycle & Pedestrian Advisory Committee. All of which has been a huge relief. I still have some outstanding projects, mostly for the neighborhood association, and it’s taking me a lot of mental effort to shift from seeing it as Yet Another Piece of Work to something that I’m excited & care about.

And I just remembered the other big thing in the last year: our old kitty diagnosed with kidney failure, and having to deal with that. And it wouldn’t be at all surprising if she died before I see 39. I don’t know what that’s going to be like for us, but it’s going to be intense.

Today I was helping out at a tech fair for faculty and ran into someone from my graduating class at UPS, who was with me in creative writing classes, and who’s now teaching physics at Evergreen starting this month. He asked if I was still writing…to which the answer is “sort of” — I did mention my one finishing NaNoWriMo, and blogging, but the question’s been rattling in the back of my head all day. And what I want the answer to be. And to be honest, how much better I feel when I’m writing regularly. Not just journaling/blogging, either, satisfying though that may be.

So: 38. (Thirty-eight?) I don’t want to put too much significance on it, and I don’t want to over-commit. But I yearn for…something.