The plane lands swiftly in the airport of San Jose del Cabo, Baja California Sur, Mexico. I pick up my luggage which was as heavy as if I was carrying my whole 30 years accumulated in a couple of weary bags.
December 4, 2017, 15:45 Pm.
So far so good, this could have gone good or bad, and for me, this was the beginning of a mere, lousy, dull bad year in so many levels.
A job offer that, I’m not going to say was fraudulent, but it was something within those grounds — an injury on my knee on a level that was impossible for me to evade surgery and the town of San Jose where I was not feeling in tone with myself.
So well, I am not going to type in how bad my luck is and how everything is fallin’ apart, how I hate my job and I’m not comfortable with anything here because it is not true and it would be too much a hypocrite of me to even think this.
The thing that marked me the most this year was the knee injury. I am now on a full year of no exercise (other than walking around on my job) and a lot of Netflix but no chill IYKWIM. Yes, there isn’t even a girl on this year’s story, and it sucks, but I do believe that IF I had not injured my knee, the lousy year would have transpired… slightly wrong, given that I would have been able to do, box, running or playing football.
In retrospective, I have a job, a place to sleep, food to eat, beer to drink and a couple of friends here that can make my lousy year just that, bad luck. One thing I can say is that bad luck is not definitive. Sometimes you are up and sometimes you are down. Hopefully, this next year I can get back up and stay there longer than the opposite.
So, in the words of Henry Rollins.
“I want to move forward as fearlessly as possible.”
2019, bring it.