2017 sucked, but I don't have to

credit: rxletterpress.etsy.com

credit: rxletterpress.etsy.com

Today I received this card in the mail from a dear friend living the dream in CA. If I were a schmuck (or thief), and pretended it was of my own creation, I would title it "2017" and try to sell it on Etsy or in a Logan Square "general store" for $5.99/each. But I 'm not. Because there's no more space in this world for bullshitty behavior.

I'm not going to lie, I threw 2017 into dumpster and lit that bastard like it was Molotov cocktail; focus on the local is what I told myself. I'm BFFs with my reps' interns, harassed our Alderman at a school walk-a-thon for over an hour and set up automatic donations to various non-profits because let's be real, by the time our kid is college age, our paltry contributions won't buy him a goddamn e-textbook...but they just may help underwrite a woman's annual exam this year.


I also checked out on the regular day-to-day stuff. Obviously the bills were mostly paid and Ho-Ho (my mom) is OK, but because her 40,000 daily calls wore me thin, she might have gone without her eye-pencil sharpener a little longer than normal. And late-night shopping lists like this made (make?) my eyes glaze over26239887_983947218423758_163232847199826295_n. But it's a new year and my husband, God bless him, can't deal with my rants any longer. So I'm back, I guess.

You're welcome or sorry depending on the audience. Except I'm done saying sorry unless I really mean it - that was my 2017 resolution. Let's do this, 2018.snipping

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    Annie Swingen

    Chicago-based hyperbole enthusiast. Mom to a kid and sometimes my mom. Overboard (1987) obsessed weirdo. I like the funnies in life.

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