It is almost the end of the year. I have almost survived it. Almost. Also, almost exactly one year ago I scribbled some lines in my black a bit trashy but trustworthy notebook in hopes of something better for the year. In hopes. The funny thing is that I managed to lose those 3 papers with my supposed achievement list during the year. Yes, I do have the notebook but not those 3 pages. And I lost them quite early in the year. Therefore, without my achievement list for the year, I had nothing to strive for and I could not remember the lengthy list by heart (I mean 3 full pages, are you kidding me?). So I got lost with direction, with dreams, with life, got lost in the street and in myself. I bet I wanted to achieve something like visiting 100 new countries, writing something more successful than Harry Potter, hair more blonde than Scarlett Johansson’s, relocating to Syria, then South Africa and then North Korea in the same year, becoming the New York Times editor and marrying Louis Theroux and/or Julian Assange when they were younger (ahm and I wasn’t born). Though how could I remember? I could have equally scribbled “become real life Dexter or make a living by becoming a hitman or a stripper” But I forgot my dreams and lost them on the way, replaced them with depression, work at Zara and sleep on all my days off and the year 2016 is almost over as I blink. So I have survived. Almost. I still have about a month to either find my missing 3 pages and fix life or this could be the last jolly entry before sales in Zara go live. Oh, we’re not allowed to say when that happens as if the date this year was different from the one last year. Absurd.
Some sort of achievements:
Managed to see few close friends
Saw cherry blossoms in Korea
Learned not to burn cakes all the time
Saw Old Boy
Did not die (surprise surprise)