February 5, 2015

Dear Self:

Well, it's been a hell of a week, hasn't it? Your best friend is dealing with a broken hand, your other friend had his drum kit stolen, you saw and heard a child die in a traffic accident last night, and also you failed at cooking. You have been on the phone all damn week trying to console people, and you just don't know what's going to hit you next.

It's okay, buddy. I'm here for you.

I am proud of you for getting through all of this for as long as you have. Hey, you know that time when your friend called and you and just listened? Good move. Remember when your friend needed surgery and you took her to the clinic at five in the freakin' morning? Well done. Being a good shoulder to cry on? Nice job.

You can't save the world all at once, my friend. But maybe you can help a little.

Self, it was a terrible week, but listen: I'll be here for you if you need to talk.

As of noon today, we are over 36.5 days into this 365 day year -- sometimes I envision the year as being like a computer program which is being installed into our lives, the source code of time itself compiling, every passing day seeing that floating status bar move towards the end of the installation.

As of now, our shared 2015 is 10% downloaded.

Estimated remaining download time? 328.5 days.... give or take a one or two lost here and there in overindulgence-induced stupor.

This is our year. Experiences may vary, but so far I have a wholly hopeful vibe about the year. Like it's going to turn out better than the last one for mankind writ whole. Hope, hope, hope.

And we've got 90% of a year ahead of us to do it in.