I've been writing this letter in my head to you for a while now, but it gets all jumbled about halfway through, so pardon me if this gets a little confusing.
2007, it's time for us to part ways. I've been thinking about a way to salvage our relationship and you know what? It's not worth it. Yeah, you've had your moments, but let's be honest here, some last-minute good deeds from you really can't make up for the craptastic way you've treated me and mine.
Put it this way: it's not me, it's you.
In so many ways, 2007, you really deserve to be taken into a dark alley and have the crap kicked out of you.
Yeah, you've delivered some good news--happy healthy babies (Maisie, Zoe, Elspeth, Teo, Lewis, Adam, Ellie)--but note those were to other people. You promised me a whole lot right up front, 2007, and then totally reneged in the worst way possible. Don't try to say this is made up for now, because it's not and it won't be. 2008 is totally gonna get credit for this--knock wood--so don't even try it.
You, 2007, are responsible for so much crap that it's a wonder you even dare show your calendar pages. And what you've done to my friends? No. The damage is irreperable.
So don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.
Sincerely, oh, so very sincerely,
The bar was set pretty low for you. Just be better than 2007, and you'll be, like, the best year ever.
Bring some cancer-free days for my friend, some anxiety-free days for my grandmother, some care-free days for my mother, and you're off to a great start. And there might be one or two special deliveries this spring that you could bring to make me your biggest fan ever.
Pretty please? Because after this past year? Totally deserve it.