About 20 minutes ago, I started in on a whole happy retrospective of 2005, which was brimming with good wishes for 2006. Then, in my Vicodin-induced stupor, I managed to close out that window and forever lose that entry. And since I am in this Vicodin-induced stupor, I am not going to try and reconstruct that entry, but will just promise you it was a very, very good entry, the quality of which is not likely to be reproduced in the remaining 16 minutes of 2005. At least: not from me.
I am writing this in the same fleece sweatpants and cashmere hoodie that I put on early yesterday morning to go to the oral surgeon's office. I am writing this from my boyfriend's apartment, where I am alone because he as at work. I don't mind staying in though; I am told drinking and Vicodin are a bad combination and I'm far too woozy to really bother with paying $85 for one of those all-you-can-drink-from-lousy-plastic-cups kind of affairs. Just me, the fake TiVO and some steamed vegetable dumplings from Nuevo Jardin de China, which, I acknowledge, is a truly sketchy name for a Chinese food place (which, not surprisingly, also has a large selection of Mexican entrees), but it's the only one in the neighborhood I've got programmed into my phone and I've never gotten sick from them before.
Anyway: despite the truly, truly lame way in which I am watching 2005 fade away, it has been a good year on the whole. And, I suppose as the Vicodin bottle and stiches in my mouth where my wisdom teeth used to be might indicate, it was the first year I really felt pretty much like a responsible adult the whole way through. Which is not so bad, really.
After I finish writing this, I'll pop another pill, swish some salt water and spit, then curl up in bed until Jesse gets home and we can celebrate New Year's for the West Coast (or perhaps it'll be the Mountain zone then?) and welcome 2006.
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