It’s 1:20 in the morning, and here I sit – looking back at the year that was. I’m a whole year older and a whole year wiser, and yet, for some reason, I don’t feel any wiser. Or any older. I feel the same.

Maybe I have grown – maybe I haven’t. Maybe the point of life isn’t to always dissect every year prior at the turning point of every year forward into something that it isn’t – some heaping pile of psychological backwash that you forgot to swallow when swallowing was ideal before the word choking came into play.

Now you’re stuck choking on all that was, wondering why you’re choking on all that was when you could have just as easily swallowed it down to let it come back up in another 365 days in exactly the same manner that it did before. And before. And before.

I had a small celebration, Christy and I going over to her brothers house for steaks and cake. Nothing extravagant. Just a fun time with friends and good food. (And home-made mashed potatoes, which were the highlight of the meal.)

Tomorrow we’re set to go to her mothers, where the meal will be liver and onions (my request) and cake. And Monday? Dinner and a movie with my father.

3 days to commemorate one very simple act of creation – I’m not complaining. (But then, I guess, nobody said I was complaining.)

It is now 1:25 and I am tired. Another year, come and gone. And in 365 days – I’ll do it all again.