Ruminations on the Eve of 2010

There is an age-old adage that time heals all wounds. I scoff at that adage. Time has done nothing helpful for my neurological disease; rather than healing anything, in fact, it seems that almost thirteen years later, the wound is much bigger; it's now gaping and infected.

I recently joined a group on facebook called (perhaps inappropriately) “fuck 2009.” I joined because any year that starts with a concussion, a spinal tap, and two weeks in the hospital and goes downhill from there, is one I want stricken from my memory. I still possess a stubbornly optimistic streak, and joined under the hope that 2010 will offer some type of reprieve from the downward spiral that seems to have usurped my life’s current trend. Then, sitting on the floor of my bathroom after a messy transfer between the shower and my wheelchair tonight, I had the sickening realization that no year, since 1997, has been better than the last. This realization made me want to flush myself down the adjacent toilet, but realistically I knew I would not fit.

So here I am, on the eve of New Years, wearing my pajamas and wondering if there is any point to resolutions. Practically, I know that the things that clearly need improvement are decidedly beyond my control. Regardless, here is a list of my hopes for 2010. If the universe could cooperate with these aspirations, I’d be most appreciative:

• First thing first: I need to rediscover my coping mechanisms. They appear to be MIA, and I’m desperate for their return.
  
• I want to keep my job. I have no concerns about teaching right now: my kids learn, they love me and I them. It’s a symbiotic relationship of sorts. But the hassle of life in general is getting, well, a bit oppressive. When it takes twenty minutes to put on a pair of pants in the morning, I wonder sometimes if teaching is a realistic long-term plan. Side note, unless aforementioned coping mechanisms are located stat, I must teach. It’s imperative. That is all I have to say about that.
  
• I want to swim again. Swimming is crucial to my sanity, and I haven’t been in the water since August. Turns out you need functional arms to swim. Interpret as you will.
  
• I want to write more.
  
• I want to find replacement agents for my classroom.  Actually, I don't want to, I need to – Ashley and Anthony graduate this May, and while I am 100% certain that I will never love anyone as much as I love the two of them; the bottom line is I need help in order to do what I love to do.
  
• It would presumably benefit my arteries to eat less dessert. That’s a tough one though, because self-restraint is not my forte and my roommate is the most amazing baker on this hemisphere.
  
• I want to meet the love of my life. I am currently concerned he does not exist.  (I'm equally concerned that if he does exist, I will be too wrapped up in my own anxieties to recognize him.)
  
• I hope not to screw up my taxes this year. Paying the IRS over $500 in December was an unexpected (and most unwelcome) expense.
  
• One of my favorite people in life just moved from Baltimore to Rwanda. I need to find a new friend who makes me laugh even a tenth as frequently as he did.

I feel as though the majority of these resolutions are beyond my control, but perhaps by documenting the things I want, I will be more open to receiving the things I need. Please. Fingers crossed.