Dear Diary,

My midnight snack this early morning was some left-over lunch from the day before. Today is the 15th of December the year of our Lord 2022. As usual, I am armed with something to bite, my ever-present set of headphones and just nearby, my diary because for some reason, I forgot the password to my website. It is 2.25 a.m. and I cannot contact my friend and techie for mere access, so I opt to use Word to journal this piece.

Why am I up, again? Hm. No idea, although I am a tad bit stressed out and anxious, not to mention sad and quite exhausted. You see, I am an ambitious fellow, thinking that I can handle a lot at a time. I can, but the point I’m trying to make is that a girl is exhausted. A girl is also quite hungry, so let me take a bite. Ah, there’s nothing that hits the spot on an empty belly like some good chicken.

Right! Back to it, eh? I am an insomniac, so I am not quite surprised that I am up. However, I did intend to fully offer my gratitude to the universe and its maker for the blessings I have received lately, not to mention the avid mental breakdowns and self-doubt that often accompany good things. Yes, light cannot be without darkness, for darkness is merely the absence of light. As I reflect on the holidays, I have no requests to Santa for Christmas; I merely acknowledge that I have been through one hell of a year, and I am closing this chapter because I survived. This is not to say that I did not give up. Quite frankly, my partner could testify to the insane number of times I called it quits; my postgraduate diploma, my relationship, my friendships, clients, self-care and the list goes on. But hey, it is good to give up every so often. The beauty in giving up is that it allows you to care less, which then presents you with an opportunity to cool off and come back with a different perspective. You could be having a bad day and you choose to quit stressing over what you cannot change about your day, choose to go home and rest and let the day be. After all, there is tomorrow and with it comes the opportunity to write your story anew.

It has been quite a year. As I think back, I had shared how insane my 23rd year had been for me, which then followed my excitement in turning 24 with the hope that getting older signified turning over a new leaf. While that is quite true, I did not anticipate that I would be thrown back to the devil’s armpit for another wrestle. I, however, did have my 23rd year to thank, because I may not have survived 2022 without the experience. Regardless, I am quite excited for the holidays despite the year’s ups and downs. Since I wrote last, I have had quite some interesting adventures: I have put myself out there on an international plane, assisted my old professor with research, become a trainer of trainers, made new allies and friends, been in the company of the country’s decisionmakers, bonded more closely with my colleagues at work, toured Kenya, fallen ill repeatedly and (to my utter surprise) actually stayed alive! Yes, that alone is enough to give thanks for, but dear Santa, I would not mind to have a 65-inch smart telly to watch Camp Lake Bottom without lights on. I did manage to bag 9Ps after all. Furthermore, old and fat one, if you could throw in some drumsticks, I would be grateful for not starving over the holidays.



3 a.m. Thoughts


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