Thursday, January 01, 2009

Happy Frickin' New Year

As I laid in bed today for the fourteenth consecutive hour, I pondered 2008.

That's right. I didn't think about it. Or muse upon its happenings. Or gestate on the occurrences.

I pondered.

And let me tell you, what a waste of time that was.

If I ever decide to waste my time pondering last year, I will remember it as the most lackluster of my life.

Work. Dialysis. Bed. Work. Dialysis. Bed. Work. Dialysis.

Oh, to hell with it. You get my point.

Due to my lack of enthusiasm for anything involving anyone, I've allowed friends to fall by the wayside.

I let Dialysis steal my once proud enthusiasm for my career.

And the one person I thought I could count on no matter what, stopped taking my calls.

That is probably my biggest regret, but by no fault of my own.

The Greek Goddess is a raven-haired little vixen who has survived on Dialysis for over ten years. Roughly around August, my calls started going unanswered. Because her health has been so limited recently, I unfortunately thought the worst. I honestly don't know whether she's still with us.

Even allowing the thought of her possible demise to venture in the vicinity of my existence is vulgar to me. She's the strongest person I've ever encountered and has so much to offer the world.

Life isn't just unfair, it's repulsive.

I receive distasteful e-mails sometimes telling me just to shut the hell up and give up already.

These types have obviously never endured a major illness.

But they do have a point.

What is the point of life if you're not truly living?

I didn't kiss anyone in 2008. Or get naked. Not even a drink until New Year's Eve.

I saw my best friend and his family once, for three hours, on his son's birthday.

I had to race back home because of treatment.

I managed to drive to San Francisco for a mini-reunion with two friends from my first year of college.

I saw my parents for a day and a half around Thanksgiving. That visit was cut short by my poor Dad's back pain.

And I managed to get management at Dialysis to disconnect all the damn TV speakers so we can actually get treated properly.

I'm drained. And hollow. A shell of the Stacy I never thought I'd be.

If you're looking for me, I'll be under the covers, hiding from the inevitability of 2009.

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