It’s the last day of the year. 2025 is just about over, and can 2026 be any worse? I don’t want to say “I don’t think so” because it very well might be. It’s hard to imagine things getting worse, but I said that at the beginning of the year.

Instead of thinking about all that, I’m thinking about the things I’m thankful for, not just the year being over.

I’m so thankful for Hannah in my life. When life is shitty, you truly turn to the things that matter most—love and family. For me, that’s one in the same: Hannah, and Ruby, too. That’s my whole family. Neither one of us has anyone or anything else in this life.

During the holidays, people ask about what we’re doing or if we’re seeing family. Luckily, we don’t have to deal with any family. That probably sounds mean and awful, but when the family you sorta liked has passed away, and the family you couldn’t get away from fast enough is also gone, all you have left are your friends, yourself, and your partner (if you have one). Away go the people you got stuck with by default. And other than yourself, you’re left with those you chose to have in your life.

It’s good to have people in your life. However, most of them are visiting their families during the holidays, poor bastards.

And New Year’s? I can’t remember the last time I stayed up past 9:00 PM. It would be some kind of miracle getting to midnight. Therefore, we have no plans to. Not tonight or any night, really. I’m perfectly happy sleeping away those nighttime hours instead.

I’m also thankful that I survived an aneurysm and brain surgery. I’m alive, and I like keeping all that crap in 2025 where it belongs: in the past.

Normally, I’m not one to celebrate being alive. I was pretty okay about what could’ve happened during or after the surgery. I thought about the possible negative outcomes and decided that whatever happened would be just fine. Be it death, permanent mental disability, loss of feeling in my legs, etc. I would accept any of it.

Doctors are obligated to tell you everything that could happen, probably because of lawyers. So, I was aware of it and all the risks. I didn’t “know” I’d be okay or come out with my heart still beating. I’ve been lucky, so far. But if my cognitive decline is permanent, I guess I can accept that, too. Sort of.

I only feel bad that Hannah is even more burdened by whatever help I’ve needed. It was bad enough already.

Decades ago, I’ll never forget my ex telling me he didn’t “sign up for this” when I was diagnosed with probable multiple sclerosis by neurologists. He exclaimed, “You mean, I might have to push you around in a wheelchair?” Now, that’s an asshole thing to say. But it also made me realize, yeah, who wants to do that? So, I highly appreciate being with someone who feels exactly as I would if the tables were reversed. I wouldn’t give a shit. When you love someone, who cares? Hannah wouldn’t care if I lost all my limbs, my hair, turned green, and drooled mucus all over her. She’d still love me. I’m lucky, but I’m sure taking care of me isn’t “fun.” Though, I don’t know if I thought I would always be fun. Now, I’m somewhat fun, sometimes.

Anyway, enough of that.

I’ve been a little frustrated with work lately. I’m working on three pieces at once, and I thought I could work on one or the other while the third dried. Then, the other day, I picked the one I thought would be the most dry. My fingers kept slipping and squishing into wet paint in all directions, smearing the wrong colored paint all over the surface. This was while I was being extremely careful, too. Hannah could hear me yelling, “Son of a bitch!” every time I ruined part of it, and had to fix every spot I screwed up. I finally had to give up for the day.

The next day, I figured I’d work on some watercolors instead, when I realized I’d have to set up a whole situation, which includes taking out a large, ceramic palette, my paints, brushes, paper towels, and papers; I mean, it’s a production. Then, once I get back to oil painting, I’d have to put all that stuff away in order to have room to work.

So I decided not to do that either. I wound up buying five pounds of clay and signing up for a ceramics workshop. There are experiments I’ve been wanting to do with clay, but I don’t know if it will work yet. …I guess I’ll let you know how it goes next year.