leigh ann

New Year’s posts are usually full of positivity and good wishes and lots and lots of plans.

My problem is that failed plans make me want to scratch my eyeballs out and throw them at the wall.

2025 has been a strange year for me. My highs have been high and lows have been rock bottom.

But the failed plans: I didn’t dedicate as much time as I’d like to my website, my writing has gone down and I didn’t complete my novel writing month goals, I can’t keep a consistent exercise regime, neither meal prepping, and I didn’t reach my reading goal amongst a plethora of other things.

It’s the first of the new year and I’d love to have a clean start. A list of goals I’d like to work on achieve. Everybody says put them in writing so you can see yourself achieve them but nobody takes about the feeling of looking down at all the times you didn’t throughout the year. It’s terrible. I can look down at the paper, clench my fist, and cry big fat baby tears.

I guess you can say my goal this year is just to survive and find happiness and go to therapy!

Of course it’s disingenuous not to admit that I’ve had high high highs and major accomplishments this year.

I graduated from college.

Got a new job.

Stayed happily married.

But this is also the year my dad died. Spoiler if you didn’t know. My new car was broken down for months and the problem was that it wasn’t broken down. And my financial situation got a bit spotty for a hot minute.

I feel like I have so many things to juggle on my plate and I don’t know where to start.

I guess it just starts with getting up and making coffee.