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There is less than a week left of January. We can make it, you guys. You girls. You remarkably capable and astoundingly talented humans. I am so proud of you.

So 2016 is off to a great start. Quit job, move back home, break out in zits. But seriously, folks, it has been great! I mean, the first few weeks were a pain in the ass. But then I TOOK CHARGE OF MY LIFE and made a few huge ass decisions. There has been a lot of ass involved in January, apparently. And truth be told, the whole quitting-job-and-moving-back-home was what I consider to the right thing to do. For me. For my health, both physically and emotionally and maybe even spiritually. Who knows! Maybe I'll be ordained an Episcopalian priest by, like, November! If I'm not a priest by November, I'll give each of you 59 followers $476 in cash, which should be totally doable because come November I should also be a New York Times bestselling author. See -- these changes I recently made are sure gonna pay off.

Oh yeah, the zits. I haven't really broken out in zits, but I have noticed a few IMPERFECTIONS around my chin and on my left cheek (on my face, pervs). I know, what a bleak existence I lead. It's probably due to the fact that for a good chunk of time I said "fugg it" to washing my face at night and instead ate ice cream while reading gothic literature and watching Sailor Moon. Time to up my hygiene practices. Noted.

I tell myself that I have to write one blog post a day, but why? Why not tell myself I have to write one poem a day? That would ultimately be better for all of us, but I think I postpone poem writing because it pushes me to the edge of insanity and I end up eating all of the things in the fridge due to crashing waves of anxiety. Blog posts on the other hand? Hell, I can just word vomit all over the screen and call it a day. It's cool, I'm an adult, I have zit, I will be a priest. And so forth.

And how many people do I bother by my word vomit? And starting sentences with "and"? And asking so many questions that will never, ever be answered? You know what? I'll tell you what. I don't care! Not true. I care. Should I care less, though? Or care more? Or do something about these questions instead of immediately abandoning them to go read Frankenstein over my heater vent? Life is made up of choices. Choices make up a life. There is a cereal called Life, duh, but also a cereal called Happy O's. And you and also me and also everyone occupying space on this planet have the choice in LIFE to be HAPPY... O's. Or something. So let's do it! Let's just be motherhugging happy today. Let's remember to eat, let's remember to give thanks, let's remember to not pop chin zits because then they will bleed and leave a scar, let's be who we are unabashedly and brilliantly.

Okay, sure.