New Year's Revolutions

I know we're well into February, and we should all be thinking about the Carlton Cards excuse for a holiday called Valentine's Day, but I'm still stuck in January because so much went on that month.

Does everyone you know break their New Year's Resolutions? I know I do, and I started calling them "revolutions" because, taking after Castro, people tend to stick to a revolution in the long run.

So, do I have plans to revolutionize my life this year? Perhaps, yes. Perhaps, no. But with this newfound unemployment it seems that I really should do some soul searching. It's funny. When tragedy of the work-sense strikes, people rally behind you, your friends spend a lot of time telling you that you're better off not being in an unhealthy environment (trust me when I say it was really unhealthy where I was working), and your adorable mother-in-law says, with all honesty, "Everything happens for a reason." And for a minute, before the tears set in, before your world comes crashing down around you, and before you reach for that Ativan your doctor has so kindly prescribed, you actually believe every single silly saying that human beings have been toting since the beginning of time.

Yes, everything does happen for a reason. "That's right!" I scream. Now, what in bloody hell is the reason and how do I figure it out before I have a complete and utter nervous breakdown.

Yes, I'm definitely better off without the nasty boss and the stress of a big, fancy job, but that doesn't help me to decide what the heck I'm going to do next.

In the end, all of the things I thought about myself aren't necessarily true anymore. I always figured I was someone who could roll with the punches. When you've had as much tragedy in my life as I've had, it's funny the things that unnerve you. I've been through losing my mom at an early age, contracting a life-threatening disease that seems to rear its ugly head every now and again (translate: right now), a bunch of messy relationships and a whole lot of people I love, especially my grandmother, dying of cancer at relatively young ages. In the end, sticking with platitudes might work in the sense that you always know what to say to someone who might be going through a bit of a something, but it's making all those truths work for you day-in and day-out that I'm finding a bit hard right now.

What's that? I'm out of Ativan? Well, you'll have to excuse me as I run out to the drugstore.