If I could give you a graphic representation of my farewell to 2023, it would be me, middle fingers upraised, mouth foaming as I spit curses at the passing year and telling it to go straight to hell and spend eternity choking on the barbed cock of Satan.
Sadly, I don’t think that 2024 is going to be any better. Call me a pessimist if you must. I prefer to call myself a realist. I’m looking forward to some cataract surgery this year, the end result of a life lived outside and in full exposure of the sun, not often with sunglasses. Add in some genetic components, and it’s amazing that I haven’t needed it before now. Mom had it when she was 40. but she spent her entire childhood in the ocean, surfing and swimming. She spent more time outside than I did at my age.
As for any predictions I have for the future, well…
Very precious indeed.