Now the days go by so fast...

Is it really two days before the new year? What happened to 2005 when I wasn't looking?

In the past 12 months, I've turned 25, been diagnosed as bipolar, and published a book. I've traveled to Bloomington, Indianapolis, Jacksonville, Nashville, Destin. And I spent six hours puking in a hotel room somewhere in Kentucky.

I met Matt after eight years, watched him turn 21, nursed his broken wrist (then dealt with wrist problems of my own six months later). And there were three or four old friends who found their way back into my life. Jeremy came home with Sara in tow, and Abby came out of her shell (a little bit).

It doesn't seem like it's time to toast in 2006 ... I mean, I don't think I'm finished with the crazy, scary, fun antics of 2005! But fortunately, I've had the blog around to keep me company — and I've made a lot of friends. It's nice feeling like I've had a place to pour out and log my thoughts. Writing has brought much reflection, amusement, and routine (which I find very comforting). And it's been more helpful than therapy — but then again, therapy sucked big time.

I've still got a day to come up with resolutions, but not until I'm finished reflecting on 2005 and how I can make the most of my tax donations on New Year's Eve.

P.S. Posted the pic because I found it absolutely terrifying. Look into the eyes of Father Time and face your own mortality. Oh, and he wants $20,000 or Baby New Year's gonna get it. You better do it. Father Time doesn't lie.