Goodbye, 2018. You were not nice. But, thanks for all of the positives. There were many.
However, the abundance of unbelievable and inane activity really pissed me off.
Eagerly awaiting midnight, 12-31-2018.
Y'all know I hate and do not read the glut of Best Of, Worst Of, Top Ten, and other such opinion lists that appear at any year's end. I don't try to make my own either, though I do have favorites in certain categories.
And what I think of New Year's resolutions is the same story.
The following is last year's poem on resolutions. Revisited.
Nobody resolves to become better in July.
We wait for a new year, but why?
It's like turning to a new page,
And, besides, it's all the rage.
We look forward to better days
And join the December 31 craze.
I have vowed to make changes in May,
And usually every Saturday,
Also in June, August, and October,
But, only when completely sober.
So, on this New Year's Eve I made no resolution.
Instead, I found a new solution.
For next year I'll not vow to change,
None of my life will I rearrange,
I'll note well what I've seen,
And make no promises to break on 12-31-18.
Yet, I have a wish for you, my dear,
Be happy every day of every year.