Sarah’s Scribbles sums up the mood of the day: a year in which I tossed out all my New Year’s Resolutions and wrote simply, “Survive”.
A year in which my personal woes were reflected by the news: 2016 sucked for everyone.
President Trump, ferfuxsake.
Brexit. People voted for lies. 52%. With the rest of us - half the population - told to “shut up and get over it”.
David Bowie, just days after a career-best album. Carrie Fisher before Episode VIII. Final Destination couldn’t have dreamed up Anton Yelchin.
2016 was a freak accident.
I need two people to function well in life: a Mentor and a Muse. The Muse says “this is what success looks like”, and the Mentor says, “and this is how we get there.” Todd Howard and JG Thirlwell were (and are) like catalysts that absorbed my attention and spat out creativity, almost without my input. Those game mods and music essays were there, and I just had to cut away the parts that didn’t look like them. Sometimes they’re both, like Everett True, who inspired me to start writing, and whose book I appeared in just this year.
I met this year: a Muse in a job I’ve coasted in for over a decade, who says, “this doesn’t have to be just a paycheck, we could change the world”, and I think about him and I start to think about how, and I bug him with ideas that he likes. Something in him makes possibilities happen.
And my Mentor - a man who by any rights ought to be president of the damn universe. Someone who taught me to expand my definition of “possibility” in the first place.
But I’m finding it harder to draw the line between them: my Muse gives me incredible advice, and my Mentor is so damn inspiring. The world is richer for either.
I should add in a note about my husband here, who’s going through a really tough time at work but trying really hard, and my daughter, who’s five but already a terrifyingly grown-up mini-me who always knows when I need a cuddle.
And I got a new line manager, someone I really like. She’s a hard nut and pushes me, but only because she thinks I can take it. She’s someone I’d hang out with even if we didn’t work together. I’d say that of 99% of the people I work with - and that’s important if you have to spend 8-9 hours of your day with people. I got HIDEOUSLY drunk on my birthday (a big one!) and told everyone that I loved them. I meant every word.
So, yeah, my Muse told me that life was a bit of a game, and that it was the relationships that are important. I’d absolutely agree. I might not have a fancy job title or lots of money or be generally where I’d hoped I would be at this age, but - goshdarnit - I love my family and friends in ways I can’t fully articulate, and that makes me feel so happy I could just burst!
