This morning, I woke up and jumped out of bed, high on Clean Slate Fever. 2010, new year, new rules. I was PUMPED. I pulled out a stack of old magazines I’ve been meaning to read (some people have an addiction to prescriptions, others to subscriptions), a pile of old Time magazines that come up to my knee (it’s really not news anymore, can’t I just throw them out? I was trying to be a grown-up when I subscribed but reading the news always feels like homework. I hate Time magazine. There, I said it.) I got out an old blanket and tucked the dog at my feet. 2010 is starting out GREAT.

Call my dad. Hear the sounds of my mother throwing up in the background. Nice. Apparently, she caught the bug from my sister. Oh, and also, “your aunt’s appendix burst two days ago. She waited 48 hours before going to the hospital. But she should be fine. Happy New Year to you too.”

My aunt, in case you’re wondering, is exactly the type of person to wait 48 hours with an EXPLODED ORGAN inside her body. “Meh, this pain? It’s nothing, I’m fine. Eat.” We’re talking about a hearty Italian-American woman of the first order here. She’s 70, she could crush your bones with one of her hugs and I’m pretty sure her treadmill is terrified of her. This is a woman who collects rocks on vacation and stuffs them in her suitcase, who I once watched walk out in the snow in bare feet. Who was DELIGHTED when a family stroll in the woods during a family vacation ended up with us lost and hiking for an extra four hours. Those little Jersey Shore bastards would be quaking in their boots if they ever came near her grandchildren. Just saying.

So, yeah. 2009, the year that brought me to my knees, more than once, with eleven months of unemployment and crushing self-doubt, misery, poverty, and enough celebrity deaths to make me want to encase the rest of the Golden Girls in a protective, Iron-Man like bubble, it did not go down without a fight. Like that moment in Lord of the Rings when the ring finally, finally FINALLY falls into that hot lava and just sits on the top of that fiery death, for a beat that’s just long enough that you want to tear your hair out and say “REALLY? Is it indestructible? If it’s indestructible, after all this, I am going to kill everyone in this theater” before finally bubbling down and dissolving into nothingness. That was this year and by God, I am so glad it’s over.