When it rains, get an umbrella
2008 was the year when hope began. In the midst of economic downfall and environmental lapses, we were given the gospel of hope. Sure, I was one of many who was skeptical, but I eventually bought into it. Because, really, what choice do I have? When my friends get laid off, when unemployment rates skyrocket, when the house I’m living in is barely worth the land its on, what else do I have but hope?
My career sputtered along in leaps and starts, and my finances are slowly but surely getting in shape. Brandon got laid off some time in mid-2008 but then rebounded in a satisfactory fashion by the end of it. I was involved in an emotional turmoil or two (as is my nature), but it was nothing too big to handle. I also started on my path to citizenship, which was kindly supported by many of you. Much love for that, of course.
The biggest changes happened to the people around me. Friends moved away, moved closer, got engaged, broke up, got hired, and fired. Which is pretty normal, of course, but all of it happening within the span of a few months is a little jarring, especially when you have a relatively small pool of pals in the first place. I also learned that I can’t please everybody all the time, and that my happy-go-lucky socializing days are largely behind me (Although I’m still down for the occasional beer at the pub).
I’ll be 30 years old in 2009. And if all goes well, I’ll also be an American citizen. It’ll be a pretty momentous year, in more ways than one, and already I’m feeling the nerves of it all. I’m in the waning months of my Saturn return, and I’m steeling myself for further probes into my delicate psyche. I already know a large part of the karma issue has to do with my family in Malaysia, whom I have been quietly neglecting. It’ll all come to haunt me in 2009; I can feel it (PS. Dad? Will you please let me know your email address?).
As I write this, it is the second day of the new year. It’s raining and gloomy outside, and it’s not even ten in the morning. The soft gentle glow of daylight persists through the gray sky, illuminating the wet pavement. Everything is strangely beautiful.
And so starts my cautious optimism for the year ahead.