Bonus Day

Despite the fact that I am rather hungry and am functioning on less than half a cup of coffee, I am well today. I am okay. It is Leap Day, my favorite day of every four years.

According to science, each year lasts exactly 365.25 days. If we simply ignored that extra quarter of a day, eventually our calendar would no longer be in sync with the seasons-we would literally have Christmas in July. So to make things easier and more convenient, scientists decided to just add an extra day to the calendar every four years. February was the obvious choice, as it's a dwarf of a month anyway.

In Ireland, women propose to their significant others on February 29th. Granted, I do think that everybody should be able to propose to whomever they please regardless of gender, but there's something about laying it all on the line this one day of the year that I find really special and meaningful.

To me, Leap Day takes on a more symbolic meaning than just being the scapegoat for our scientific errors. Leap Day is magic. It's a day for second chances; twenty-four hours you can spend doing all the things you wish you'd done in the past four years. The craziest things could happen today, the most magical, beautiful, wonderful things.

Take life by the horns today. I guess I'm not really the best person to be dishing out that kind of advice given my current emotional state, but seriously people. Do it. Live. Laugh. Love. Leap.

Let's Try This Again

Hi there.

I've got this terrible guilt because I keep looking at Blogger and telling myself to write something, anything, but I never do. There's a lot of me that thinks one must have something earth-shatteringly philosophical to write about every time one begins a new post. But obviously that isn't the case. I'm not going to be suddenly inspired to write the greatest piece of text ever every single day. But hopefully the act of sitting down to write will generate some inspiration. I'm creating creativity, if that makes sense.

Hold me to my promise, dear friends in the blogosphere. I'm going to try to post something new every day. It's going to be a bumpy ride.

Love you all. Let's go.

Crisis Mode

We have an issue on our hands. A major issue.

I can't find my overalls.

They are nowhere to be found.

I miss them.

Come back to me, denim jumpsuit of my soul!

So if anybody sees them, let me know.

"Best Boss I Ever Had"

You are all going to judge me intensely for this post. That's okay.

A few months ago, I started watching The Office on Netflix. I fell in love with Dunder Mifflin, its people, the dry sense of humor, and Michael Scott. Over Christmas break I stayed up terribly late so I could fit in as many episodes as possible. I ended up watching six and a half seasons in two weeks.

I've become so emotionally invested in every aspect of this show. The Dunder Mifflin family is my own family. I have laughed and cried with them through sick days, sensitivity training, breakups, weddings, babies, garage sales, and trips to the beet farm. They've taught me so much.

I started Season 7 with the knowledge that it would be Steve Carrell's last days on the show. To delay the inevitable, I watched as little as humanly possible. Slowly but surely I worked my way towards the dreaded Episode 22, knowing that one of these days I would have to watch it.

That day was today. With tears in my eyes I watched Michael take his last steps around the office. I promised myself that I wouldn't cry. And then Jim Halpert (played by John Krasinski, I swear that man can do no wrong) said goodbye. That was about 29 minutes into the whole thing. I bawled like a baby the remaining seven. My shoulders shook, my stomach heaved. My heart broke. Steve is gone. Michael is gone.

So I guess I'd just like to thank you, Michael Gary Scott, for everything. It's been an incredible journey.

"And then tomorrow, I can tell you what a great boss you turned out to be. Best boss I ever had." -Jim

...And It Was Good.

So I'm home with some sort of stomach flu thing right now. And that kind of sucks, but regardless...

Yesterday was a good day. I smiled and laughed and contributed to conversations and soaked in Life. It was the first Good Day in awhile, so it felt really weird to be that happy after feeling sad for so long. It's going to take a lot of getting used to.

This is not to say that I'm going to have nothing but Good Days from now on. That would be a silly assumption. Things don't get better that fast. It is to say that I am taking baby steps, climbing slowly out of this hole I've been in for lord knows how long. And I'm going to slip sometimes, but you know what? That's okay. There are so many wonderful people out there whome I love and who love me and will help me. I'm going to get better. And it's going to be great.

Thanks, my dears. I love you so much.

It's Back.

Everything is resurfacing. My problem is that I am writing about all of these issues instead of vocalizing them. I need to actually talk to someone. I think that would get all of these bad thoughts out of my head and I wouldn't feel like I need to throw up all the time. Right now my head feels like it's about to explode with everything that I am thinking.

I really want to cry about it. There's this weird little catch in my throat that feels like I'm in the middle of a sob, but I can't actually cry. Maybe it's because I'm not talking enough. I haven't had a legitimate, meaningful conversation with someone since who knows when and that makes me sad.

You know what I need? I need someone who would let me talk and cry and just say "Mhm?" and "Go on," and "And how do you feel about that?"

I don't even know what's going on right now. But I'm really angry at myself, and that's probably unwarranted. Maybe not, I don't know. I don't have a clue about anything anymore.

Sorry guys. I'm trying to get this all out in any way I can.

This Year Will Be Golden.

Saturday, December 31st

Big Funny Kid and FG threw a New Year's Eve party that put Dick Clark to shame.

I stayed up way too late. I made new friends (shoutout to Quiet Guy and I Like This Kid). I stomped down the stairs, Nerf gun in hand, in search of a two-headed demon baby.

There was music. It was beautiful.

I am so thankful for music and the people that make it. Yesterday I was thankful in excess, because my New Year's Eve was so amazingly musical and full of life. I spent the night in awe of my very talented friends, old and new, and I was so happy that they let me sing with them.

These musical friends inspired my New Year's resolution. I am going to make this year a musical one. I will play my ukelele, I will sing my heart out, I will bang on my piano. Music makes me happy, and I want to spend the next 365 days feeling infinitely better than I have been feeling recently. So why not make an effort to?

I can't think of any better way to greet 2012 than with Rock Band, a jam session, and a Nerf Gun war.