a tough year is over
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
Well, the year is coming to a close at last. A year during which I injured myself at the gym; was woken in the middle of the night to the sounds of a woman in the neighborhood being raped; got into a scrap in a bar; broke up with my fiancee; lost a grandmother; had to move, twice; spent two months on my mom's couch and another four months fruitlessly looking for work; and went into debt. It was also a year during which I got my first taste of surfing, inline skating, and archery; turned my novel into a (semi-) coherent work; visited New Zealand for the first time and Mexico for the second; witnessed an incredible meteor shower; spotted my first turkey vultures (a bird I'd always known was in Ontario, but had never seen); and moved into my first home without a room-mate, lover, or family member in six years. It was also a year during which I made the decision to work to live rather than to live to work. All in all, a year I can appreciate.