This Time Next Year

 So this time last year, I was discontented with my life. And on the last day of my family vacation, I made  this list of what I wanted to be doing, and what I wanted my life to be. 

Here's what I wanted:
1. To be writing constantly
2. To have a mentor/someone to guide me
3. To be making things that I wanted to make (large scale projects)
4. To have a group of creative friends who were passionate about the same things as I
5. To be getting a degree? 
6. To have my friends all be happy as well

 And just yesterday I realized something: I have everything I wanted on that list and MORE:
1. I'm writing constantly: whether that's for this blog, for OVERDUE, for Peaks, for my novels, or for other projects.
2. I finally got that mentor-- literally. When I enrolled in Empire State College, I got paired with a "mentor" who is essentially a guidance counselor, educator, best friend, and creative champion all in one. It's only been a month, but she's already guided me through so many unknowns, that I know this was a good decision.
3. I'm making things constantly.
4. I've found that group of people, and I love them more than anything. They can intelligently dissect movies for hours but at the drop of a hat burst out in a Macklemore dance party. 
5. I just found out yesterday that I am well on my way to getting a degree. The degree I had accepted was probably never going to happen. 
6. Yesterday I sat in my best friend's coffee shop and drank hot chocolate in a room entirely lit by fairy lights. I think it's safe to say #6 is nearly there. 

 Realizing all of these things reminded me of a Raymond Carver quote I was pretty obsessed with last year. “Nights without beginning that had no end. Talking about a past as if it'd really happened. Telling themselves that this time next year, this time next year, things were going to be different.” I didn't believe that quote when I read it last year. But now I see the undeniable truth in it. And I'm only wondering how I could possibly visualize anything better than what I have now. But I have an active imagination. I'm sure I'll think of something.