I think I’ve well established on this blog that I am not happy about 2017. In fact, I’m worse than unhappy, but I don’t need to use this space to air my mental health issues. In any case, I thought a vacation might lift me out of the muck, and I pinned my hopes on an epic West African road trip, only to fall deeper into my malaise when I had to cancel it due to logistical annoyances. Instead I moved on to planning a trip to Cape Verde, and I bought remarkably affordable tickets on Friday for a trip at the end of January. It helped. I felt myself starting to climb out of my hole by getting excited for the beach and the mountains and the music and the people… Until today, when I woke up to this:
So it seems 2017 is dead-set not only on misery of a general “the world is going to shit” nature but also in a very personal “someone up there hates me” sense.
I will attempt to contact Expedia and figure out an alternate plan to get to Cape Verde in February. But first I will shake my fist at the sky and curse 2017 with the biggest GO FUCK YOURSELF I can muster. So much for that positivity resolution.