It was the last day of 2019, and boy, was I glad. My 2019 had taken a crazy unexpected turn, and I was ready for the fresh start a New Year always brings.
I was staying at my good friend Sarah’s house, she had housed me after my big break, and I was grateful to be there with her and her monster toddlers that had this magical effect of making you forget about anything going on in your life. To paint the picture, I had just completed my favorite Christmas, entirely by myself in the small finger lake town of Skaneateles, NY. Justina’s wedding followed that up, one of the fateful last ones I knew would happen from our friend group for a long time. It was so much fun; I wore a romper, felt refreshed, and was so happy to be partying with my best friends. However, there was one little caveat. I was BEYOND sick. I had been struggling with what I like to call the “Buffalo death cold”. I hadn’t been through a Buffalo winter in a minute, and we all know it well. As soon as the weather changes, you typically get a cold/sinus infection. So it was more or less expected. But this cold knocked me on my ASS. I couldn’t breathe, coughing forever, and it wouldn’t go away…weeks I’m talking. Doctors were useless, and I heard murmurs on the news of a new virus taking over China. “Could it possibly be something like that?” I asked the doctor. She looked at me with annoyance. “Another Dr. Google,” she replied, “no, there’s no way you could have gotten that virus.”
So on I went to the wedding and living my life. TBH I’m pretty sure it was indeed COVID. And also pretty sure I infected that entire wedding. Poor Sarah got pink eye the next day, and other friends admitted getting a terrible cold too. Whoops? Or you’re welcome?
Back to NYE. So as you can imagine, I was still feeling awful. Nothing was helping except switch between swigs of DayQuil and NyQuil. Sarah had invited some of her friends over for a little get together. To my dismay, all couples. My already precarious mental state did not fare well, fueled by alcohol and cold medicine. But hey, NYE, right? Poor Sarah got the brunt of my passive-aggressive drunken way of being annoyed at the couple’s only situation. Still, other than that, I enjoyed wearing my sequin romper and properly romping around.
While I was at the lovely Christmas barn, I had made a Yule log from some dropped pine and notes of intentions. It worked out perfectly that Sarah had a large fireplace roaring on NYE. As the ball dropped, and we all drunkenly cheers’d, I threw that Yule log into the raging inferno. “Good tidings and well wishes for all!” I proclaimed, dancing around. “A great year! How exciting! 2020! We will all be protected, and things will be amazing!”
I completely forgot about that little Yule log until the other day. For a moment, I was worried I made some grave mistake and started a pandemic in our country. But then I realized something. I DID have a fantastic year. I’m an extreme introvert, so being ‘forced’ to stay inside was heaven for me. Being able to have groceries delivered, zoom yoga classes, even my favorite local restaurants brought me drinks. And to top it off, my Dad’s business (that I do the bookkeeping for) BLEW UP. We grew by 200%, so my savings become a real thing. I saved and got to fully prepare for my departure on my next endeavor, living in the truck again.
I apologize to anyone I may have infected unknowingly with COVID back in November-January of 2019 and for my potential Yule log incident. I can assure you there will be no Yule log this year, and also, I am continuing to be responsible with COVID wearing my mask and doing my favorite thing; avoiding people.
Stay safe, and Happy New Year. Cheers fam