and sad again.
Grown Up Anna still doesn't want to be a grown up. I still don't really have anything to my name, and I've become kind of okay with that mostly. Husband and I have plans for the future, and that's enough for me right now.
Career Anna is still absent, with future prospects dwindling with each passing year. I've already lost a lot of the skill I had with dialysis, and I'm terrified of finding out how far I've fallen. I may never know, since we're still in the throes of battle with good ole lefty.
Should I just give up on this path? Is the universe giving me a hard redirect again?
I really wish there would just be a letter or something:
"Dear Anna,
Stop doing this shit over here. Start doing that shit over there. #destiny
Signed, The Universe and Fate"
But then I'd probably just fixate on the silliness of hashtagging a written letter.
Family Anna has pretty much kicked ass this last year, albeit with a few speedbumps.
I've been too excitable about my nephew coming into the world, and repeatedly stepped on my sister-in-law's proverbial toes. She's been miraculously patient enough not to hire a hitman yet, and for that I am grateful.
I managed to meet up with my big little sister in Pennsylvania and do some bonding and adventures, which yielded great results and a stronger relationship.
The extended family is even doing well, as I've rebuilt bridges with my grandparents on both sides, while exploring a friendship with Husband's aunt, the new matriarch of the family.
Wife Anna is just an asshole. I don't really need to elaborate on that, other than she needs to get her shit together.
Maternal Anna still doesn't want any fucking kids. Ever.
However I have discovered a newfound love for furbabies. I kind of want to adopt and rescue them all. All of them. And then we'll have a snuggle party which ends when I die from anaphylactic shock. Yeah.
Here's hoping 26 finally yields something great.
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