Dear 2024,

You can go fuck yourself.

Sincerely,
Me

Too harsh? Maybe. Here's what I know about the year that just ended:

• It started off with Julie getting COVID for the second time, and being isolated from the rest of the household as best as possible for a couple weeks
• About ten days after Julie recovered, I got COVID for the very first time (guess RFK Jr. wasn't quite right about COVID and Jews), and let me say that I was very fortunate to be dealing with it in early 2024 rather than early 2020
• My paternal grandmother passed away in late spring—she was my last surviving grandparent
• At the start of summer, my best friend growing up died unexpectedly; we had known each other since we were three
• In late August, Julie had an accident on her bicycle, dislocating her foot and severely fracturing her ankle, requiring surgery and greatly diminishing her mobility for two plus months
• The United States had perhaps its most "what the fuck" moment in recent memory when it elected the least qualified major party candidate since, well, the last time they nominated that guy—yes, I'm referring to the 34-time convicted felon, adjudicated rapist, who incited an insurrection in an attempt to overthrow a fair election, and is objectively one of the worst presidents in history...that fucking guy

While things could've certainly been worse in 2024, I maintain that it can go fuck itself.