Not often do I wish time to go faster but this past year I wished it a lot. 2020 seemed far too long, and far too difficult at times. That one extra leap year day felt more like an extra hundred days.
The year started off pretty well. I got healthier than I had been in some time. I posted my annual “What do I want to do this year” post, Where is My Muse? on January 22nd. Much later than usual and rather than a big plan as in previous years it was more a lament about wanting to write more but just not being able to. I did write two more posts in January and then six in February. Most were for Food Matters, the first of May More’s Life Matters series, but the last was the kind of smutty D/s erotic fiction I love writing, Are You a Good Girl?
March was the month things changed. It started of fine. I was participating in The Smut Marathon and made a trip to Vancouver. The trip was for business but I did manage to visit my only nephew and his family, and see the Pacific Ocean for the first time. I grew up with the Atlantic Ocean in my backyard so it was nice to finally visit the Pacific and the other side of our big, beautiful country. I returned from Vancouver a few days before everything went into lockdown due to the Covid-19 pandemic.
I then spent six months working from home and caring for my son full time. It nearly drove me over the edge. My son? He loved every minute of it. All he wants is to spend time at home with me. And though there were many times I found myself crying at the end of the day or taking a few extra minutes in the bathroom to calm my anxiety, all that time together did wonders for him. He blossomed, and that was a beautiful thing.
My writing, personal life, and most other things took a big backseat to learning how to live in this new pandemic world. I had only posted four times in March, two of which were eLust editions. No more writing until Strong Independent Woman on August 20th, about my struggles with depression and the pandemic. Just two more posts in November, That Damn Suitcase and Sweet Dreams, and that was it for 2020. A measly 16 posts.
December was the absolute worst. Even if the rest of the year had been a spectacular year, December was enough to make me glad it’s over. During the second week of December I came down with Covid-19. I’ve had many years of having bronchitis and/or pneumonia in December or January so being sick this time of year is nothing new. Still, Covid-19 was so much worse. I’ve posted a few times about it on Twitter and Facebook, and will write about it here at some point as well. Not today though. When all the issues go away and I can write about it without getting so mad my blood pressure sky rockets or I break down in a weepy mess of tears.
Today, on this first glorious day of 2021, I am thankful to be home with my son, even if it is in lockdown once again. I am glad I can breathe and am finally able to eat some real food. I am thankful for the things I have learned about myself and hopeful for a better year ahead. I am also just so fucking glad to be done with 2020!