It’s spring again. I planted some flowers that I thought looked pretty and some iceberg and escarole, because I feel like I’ll want to eat sometime this summer.

I feel like I’m overflowing, which is pretty much the only time I write here. It’s good to have an outlet.

I went to a party last night for the first time in like 2 years. I took quarantine seriously, I used to eat at restaurants multiple times a week and now I only get take out from my very, very favorites.

Anyway, I missed parties so fucking much. I missed connections lasting a few moments and dumb shots and stupid jokes and jackbox and promises of Mariocart and oh fuck how I missed laying on the floor at 3AM with old friends and new friends and talking about Brazilian jujitsu and naked golds and 90s music and not for even a second talking about the bullshit of 2020

I’m so very thankful I got my first dose of the vaccine. I don’t care, I guess, about how shady it might be and I’m still pissed about how awful big pharma is and fuck our dumb fake leaders for pretending to care About this well they clearly don’t

I keep wearing my mask. I keep limiting my socials. God damn I’m in introvert but it was too long for even me. I was so god dammed happy to see my “fair-weather friends” and just relax and enjoy humanity and have dumb conversations and hear about your job and ask you if you tried the snacks.

God damn I missed it so much. I still do. I want to cry so badly, my emotions are overflowing but I still struggle with letting them out.

I’ve been trying to think recently about all my accomplishments throughout the last year that was absolutely less than even a little normal. I feel like I’ve done so much – see below:

My garden actually produces food I can feed myself and my chris and my family and my friends with.

I challenged myself and learned how to brew beer and ferment food and raise bread and how to use chemical interactions and time to show the people important to me how much I love them.

I raised a dog and focused on my internal struggle and faced my demons and Even if I’m still fighting them I now understand them better and I’m pretty sure some cartoon dog told me that “knowing if half the battle”.

I’m still sad a lot. I’m absolutely mad too much, but I’m learning how to embrace my emotions and use them for positivity.

Anyway this is probably way to much and way too unimportant but like I wrote about earlier I weirdly spend too much time thinking about how a fictional fantasy future is thinking about me. I don’t expect to be important or famous or special, but I feel like this stupid blog is a stupid treasure at the end of some vague quest for a future leaf on the family tree to discover and embrace and go fully help them better understand how I wasn’t any less fucked than any of them regardless of what my legacy is.

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