A few weeks ago, I shot a video with Tiny Tags (makers of the necklaces I wear everywhere, all the time) in which I talked about the emotional rollercoaster of these past few months. I may or may not have cried while filming it; I'm not telling.
This post from October sums up 2018 pretty neatly, I'd say.
I was going to post a 2018 retrospective today, because that's what bloggers do at the end of the year (right?), but I got five minutes in and realized it was too fucking depressing. Divorce! Crippling loneliness! Job panic! Almost dying!
And that's just the stuff I've written about. There's been so much more.
It turns out that suffering from insomnia for ten years and then suddenly finding yourself cured (three cheers for Zoloft!) will transform you into a next-level narcoleptic. I'm serious: I can sleep anywhere. And frequently do.
And apparently I can also sleep through an earthquake, alien apocalypse, or cat attack.
(Kendrick's payback will be swift, and it will be mighty. Don't you worry.)