What Awaits in 2022?

I’m almost afraid to ask.

Photo by Sergiu Zarnescu on Unsplash

It’s January 1st, 2022, and I’m still waiting on results from a COVID test I took a few days back. I’ve probably checked my email a dozen times already today, my worry dancing back and forth despite the fact that I feel fine otherwise. But maybe the results will be delayed because it’s New Year’s Day. Who knows at this point, right?

I’m trying not to be pessimistic, though that’s my usual shade of mood anyway. I’ve learned to gear up for disappointment because having certain expectations has left me burned in the past. I basically just assume the worst in most situations and work from the bottom up.

I’m supposed to start a new job on January 3rd, and I’ve already had my first nightmare about it. I dreamed that I missed half of my first day and botched the tasks given to me in a flurry of incompetence. When I woke up, I felt this gnawing sense of frustration that even my subconscious had betrayed me and tried to doom me to a botched new beginning.

Just more of the same, I guess?

There are more carry-over worries from 2021 too: I haven’t spoken to my dad since Christmas (not exactly a deep concern, though it’s saddening regardless), my uncle is nowhere near on course with his sobriety, and the rest of my family is reeling from a turn for the worst for an ailing…