It's 2015! And... It's Exactly the Same.

So here we are. 2015. This post is the one hundred and ninety-ninth entry of this blog.

 

(Holy crap on a cracker! You're up to 200 posts already???)

 

No, I'm up to 199. Pay attention.

 

(*gives stern face*)

 

As I was saying…. This is the 199^th post, and the first of 2015. Ergo, the next post is either going to be epically dripping with awesomesauce or completely anticlimactic. I won't know which until the inspiration to write it hits me. Until then, you get this. And this is your 2015 wake-up call.

 

(On a Monday, no less….)

 

Misery loves company. And today, my misery loves your company. Now shush your face and let me continue. Otay, Buckwheat?

 

(Otay, otay, jeez….)

 

Each year at this time people make resolutions and plaster social media with things like "I'm going to work out more" or "I’m going to be a better person" or "I'm going to stop making fun of Keanu Reeves." As you can clearly tell from these examples, however, such assertions are unadulterated, nonsensical poppycockery. Sure, we may mean them at the time we say them, but do we really? I call bullsh*t. I think we may want to believe the words coming out of our mouths or leaping across the computer screen from our finger tips, but when it all boils down we are who we are and we'll be who we'll be.

 

(That's kind of….dark and depressing.)

 

The truth usually is. One of my favorite memes this time of year pokes fun at the whole "new year, new me" notion in reminding you that "you're still the same dumb*ss at 12:01 am as you were at 11:59 pm." Some things don't change. Most people don't change. The only thing that's changed is the date on the calendar.

 

(Is your New Year not off to a good start, Grumpy McCrankypants?)

 

No, it's not. I mean, it's not off to a bad start, but there's been a series of events since ye ole ball drop that just make me look skyward and utter a few "what the f*cks" and the occasional "for f*ck's, sake, really?" Take this, for example. I don't usually share too much personal information here but the absurdity of what's transpired with my divorce bears noting. Things are tepidly amicable, and my ex and I are in complete agreement, so much so that we filed everything with the court well in advance of the end of the year to finalize the proceeding. Included with the filing was a cover letter that said something along the lines of "please note that time is of the essence as we need this proceeding completed by December 31 for tax purposes. If there any issue whatsoever please call me immediately at the number listed above."

 

(I can see where this is going….)

 

Everyone can see where this is going. Fast forward four weeks, yes weeks, and I get a letter dated December 29^th, received January 2^nd, which tells me one of the provisions of our separation agreement doesn't comport with the law and must be amended.

 

(Playing devil's advocate here… you're a lawyer by day. Shouldn't you have known that?)

 

Therein lies the rub – this nitwit at the court is completely wrong. Wrong, wong, should go sit in the corner and contemplate her wrongness wrong. The language in the papers is word for word verbatim the same language taken from other agreements that the courts have approved with no issue whatsoever. So, some persnickety clerk in a court in a different city who doesn't understand the law complete f*cked up my divorce six ways from Sunday, including screwing up how we now have to file our taxes for 2014. This, all because she couldn't be bothered to have picked up a damn phone several weeks ago when the papers were filed.

 

(Dude. That sucks.)

 

That sucks big, hot rocks. So, as a result, I had to redo the paperwork, drive to another city and experience the rapturous joy of meeting with my ex to have the papers that didn't need to be amended in the first place re-signed, so I then can drive back to my city and then wait a day to FedEx them back out to the other city, and then wait for Ms. "Has No Clue What NY General Obligations Law Actually Requires" to review the revised papers and…. For. F*ck's. Sake. This is a bunch emotional annoyance I don't need. And just when you thought that was bad….

 

(But wait, there's more?)

 

Precisely! As you've also gathered here, the whole online dating thing has been hit or miss, mostly miss. A lot of misses. In Battleship terms, it's been:

 

Me:      B-12.

You:    Miss. C-6.

Me:      Hit. Dammit. A-9.

You:    Miss.  C-7.

Me:      How the hell did you just find and sink my destroyer? It only has two g*ddamn pegs!!!

 

Get the drift?

 

(Guessing your battleship was already sunk, too, huh?)

 

Anywhoos…. So a while back I met a girl. It went well. Until her ex started throwing tantrums like a two-year-old. She broke it off, said she had to focus on her, the kids, getting her act together. Honestly, it sucked, because I was really starting to care for her. We continued to talk, toyed with the idea of re-exploring the relationship… and then she put the brakes on again. Said she just wasn't ready for a serious relationship. Needed to keep things light. Okay, fine, I'm with ya. I back off, respect her wishes… Don't really hear from her. Fast forward a little bit and, after getting home from dealing with the ex yesterday, I log onto Facebook, which throws some friend suggestions in my face, including the aforementioned, who lists herself as being in a relationship. As in "such a serious relationship it warranted telling the word via Facebook" serious. Obviously not with yours truly.

 

Gut. Kicked.

 

So much for wanting to keep things light. Maybe it was me and she was just being polite. Maybe my act of, God forbid! actually respecting her wishes and backing off was misinterpreted as lack of interest. I'll probably never know for sure. But, I mean seriously, universe???? Of all the people on Facebook, SHE'S the one you think I should be friends with? Did I really piss you off so badly to warrant such Karmic retribution? I rescues dogs and send anonymous gifts to people for fu*ck's sake!!!

 

(You're saying that phrase a lot lately.)

 

I know. But it's appropriate and makes one of my friends giggle, so…. The point is that some things just don't change. My life hasn't gotten better because I flipped a page on a calendar. And for those who say "you're happiness is yours alone to make" and all that happy horse sh*t…. Just be quiet and shut your pie holes. It's not true no matter how many inspirational posters you tack to your wall or how many smiley-faced memes you post to Instagram. Seeing that suggestion on Facebook was out of my control, and it made me sad. There is nothing I can to do feel happy about that. It. Wasn't. In. My. Control. It was a situation wholly outside of my control that elicited an instinctual and uncontrollable response.

 

Sure, maybe the year will get better from here. I thought that last year. And the year before that. I'm not trying to bring you down, honestly. I'm just a realist. Sometimes things don't change, things suck, and there's nothing you can do about it. I suppose knowing that helps, because then you can say "eh. Whatever. Life goes on." And it does. But it still doesn't take away the sting of the moment.

 

(Debbie Downer, party of one, your table's ready….)

 

*sigh* Fine. I'll be chipper. I have my health and my friends and a new watch and a gift card to buy Jeep accessories. I really shouldn't complain. But you know what? I'm gonna. I'm human. I'm not always on and I'm not always happy. If I hid that side of me from you I wouldn't be an honest writer, and I wouldn't be respecting you as my readers. I like to think that, in the nearly two hundred entries I've posted here, most have been funny, witty, sarcastic, inspiring, or at the very least smile-inducingly entertaining. I crack wise, make up words, and try my dandiest to make you smile when perhaps you don't want to. I genuinely hope you do.  

 

(We do, and we thank you for that.)

 

I really do hope so. And I apologize for sometimes having to do an emotional cache dump on these pages. Please know though, that it helps. It helps tremendously, and not just because it's cheaper than seeing a therapist when I have a high deductible insurance plan. Although, if any of you happen to be a therapist and have some insight into my malaise, or have the gumption to prescribe some Ambien, feel free to chime in.

 

(What if we want to admit you on a mental health arrest?)

 

Then I have this to say to you: You don't need money, don't take fame, don't need no credit card to ride this train… it's strong and it's sudden, and it's cruel sometimes….

 

(But it just might save your life… That's the power of lov…. Huey Lewis??? REALLY???)

 

I got your mental health arrest right here.

 

Happy New Year.

 

 

© 2015 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.