A letter from Jan 09, 2025

Dear Me, It's me. Well, you. Well, us. It's us. I'm at the pink circle table feeling melodramatic, though that's just who we are, I guess. It's the new year, and I am so SO excited for 2025. I felt like I couldn't breathe all of 2024. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop while simultaneously recalling how absolutely shat 2023 was. I felt like I entered the year scared and traumatized. I don't feel that way now. It's January 9th, and though we're already more than a week in, I still feel like I'm living in the existential bliss of it being a new year. Fresh start. However, I feel an almost paralyzing amount of anxious anticipation for this year. I know it'll be a big one. ****** reduction, Brennan's wedding, potentially moving. A LOT is in store for this year. But not yet. Not quite yet. Right now I just have to stay where I am and look ahead excited. So I have resolved to trying to throw myself into hobbies (classic) and try to enjoy my time in Seattle while it lasts. And try to get through the 4 PM sunsets (seriously, they're ridiculous). Tonight I have my very first kickball game of the season. I'm excited, but who knows what will come of that. I guess that's the good part? I don't know though, I think I'd rather it just be August already and I'm looking for places to move. I hate that I'm wishing away time but it's also just a product of the circumstance. I mean, the timeline can't really change. I AM GETTING SURGERY IN MARCH. I have the date for it. That part can't change. And after that, I can't fly/move heavy things for 6 weeks. That puts me in mid-May. I go back to California end of May for wedding stuff (Jackson, then Brennan). I return middle/end of June and hello??? ISG's retreat and Teresa's moving to Washington and summer in Seattle is so fun. So now we're in July at least. I can't move in July. And now here we are in August. It has to be after August, at least. So until then I'm just praying I'll stay occupied, engaged, and present. Anyways, that's not what this is! I'm not here to dish about everything going on with me, because you've already been through it. Instead, obviously, I am here to push incredibly unrealistic expectations onto you and make you feel bad a little. Just kidding. (not really). I just hope that, by the end of this year, you feel a bit of a relief. I think that this will be a big year for leveling up. Moving places, exploring a new place, new side of myself, hopefully biking around a neighborhood after work because, hello, that sounds so idyllic. Hopefully you have fun and interesting people, or you don't, but you're excited about the fact that anything (everything) can change at the stop of a hat. I hope that living in a different time zone, you feel like work is a little bit more balanced. That is, if you're still working at ISG. I hope you are, but who knows? I know it feels really good to finally feel excited about a new year. I'm not dreading this one. Parts will suck, I know that. Parts that I don't even know exist, will probably suck. It always does. But, if you've moved somewhere else, then you've done what you need to do to set yourself up for happiness in the future. You've opened so many doors for you, me, us to come in and do what we want. To be who we want. And that's super ******* powerful. You ripped off the bandaid and maybe you regret it a little bit, maybe you're still reeling from the pain. Or maybe not at all and you're only feeling joy. But I hope you know deep in your soul that it needed to be done. Something about this, here, Seattle, it's not working. It's really not working. No longer serving me and that's all we need to know. Our time, our health, our life is too valuable to wait around in a place and in a situation that no longer serves us. I just hope you feel like this one is. Even if it's just for the sheet fact that at one point it could. That hope is worth fighting for. So, I love you. I'm proud of you. All those mushy, gushy things. You rock. Don't ever doubt that you don't. All my love, you <3