2018 has been one hell of a year. And I don’t mean that in a good way.
Last year has been an emotional, physical, and spiritual roller coaster for my family. Not only did my family lose two well-beloved furry family members, we had to cope with my mom’s surgery that took a more complicated turn, thus ending in a longer R&R session for her, (If you knew my mom, then you’d immediately guess she wasn’t too happy at the thought of having to stay put and do nothing,) and student loans were barring down on me harder than ever before.
Of course, it didn’t exactly help with all the political, environmental, and economical atrocities swirling all around us like an overgrown Nor’easter crashing into houses, tearing apart schools, and attempting to drown everyone and everything in sight.
On top of that, I wasn’t able to sign a contract with an agent interested enough in my book. Again.
I wasn’t exactly feeling like I was on top of the world.
As December was drawing to a close, my parents and I decided we were going to deviate from our New Year’s Eve norm and have a little party. We invited a couple of our closest friends, who happen to work at the same place Dad and I work, and ordered a butt-ton of Chinese food (a tradition in the LaBree household – the superstition is almost every year we have Chinese food on NYE, we have a good financial year. If we don’t have Chinese food, we have a crappy financial year. Like I mentioned, it’s worked almost every year. )
We also decided we would have some drinks to help ease in the new year. Not only did I bring my favorite flavored vodka (the brand is called Kinky… don’t judge,) one of the young men brought in Fireball, while the other brought in rum, whiskey, beer, and fruit punch. While Mom and Dad watched, the three young people (myself and the other two guys) got sloshed and took some uncalculated and unnecessary risks. Even more so after we watched the ball drop and the parental units went to bed.
Felt like I was back in my college days.
I don’t remember a whole lot of the night – I was trying to keep up with the other two… very bad idea – but I do remember heading downstairs after we all went to bed sometime around 5:30am, fed the cats, and proceeded to lose my dignity in the bathroom. It was most definitely not a pretty sight.
The following morning was rough. I managed to navigate down the stairs without stumbling and falling to my painful doom, shuffled into the bathroom to relieve my already dehydrated bladder, then made my way into the kitchen, where Mom and Dad were giggling and smiling ear to ear as the three of us young’uns crumpled into our respective seats, took several pain pills, and gingerly sipped on our coffees and waters.
Throughout the entire day we rested, the men went out to fish, and we watched movies all day while eating left over Chinese food.
To be honest, I am thankful for the hangover. I know, I know, that’s an awfully strange thing to say. But hear me out: in drinking too much, I let go of all the hurt and anger I was holding in my heart. Of course, there are plenty of other ways to do that, but I think this was the way for me to do it. The hangover was a consequence, and a reminder, that holding on to so much hurt, pain, and anger was doing me a disservice. I was holding myself back when I should have been pushing myself forward. And now, with the new year, I get to start over and move on. No more looking back, no more holding on to what I failed to do. Failure is only a part of learning. If I didn’t fail, then where was the learning?
So, here’s to a new year and new beginnings. I have a feeling this year is going to be a good one. I pray it’s a good one for all of you as well.
L.J. LaBree 