2013 felt like this:

Danica just baked a bunch of cupcakes. She carefully frosted and packaged them with love. She carefully places them in the backseat – eager to get to her destination and deliver these precious gift-treats.

As she turns onto the freeway, some AHOLE cuts her off, causing her to hit the brakes. Multiple cupcakes overturn. But Danica can do nothing about it. For she is driving on the freeway.

For 30 minutes she is driving on the highway. Knowing those cupcakes are overturned. Knowing that frosting is crushing, spreading, flowing. Knowing that sprinkles are wiggling their way into the seatbelt-hole and into the tight, dark corners of the backseat. Knowing that peeking into the backseat every 20 seconds won’t change the status of the cupcake casualties, but doing it anyway. Knowing that she tried really hard and had good intentions, but she still managed to screw it up anyway. Knowing that some of the cupcakes were fine, and she would be fine. Knowing that she’d laugh about it later that day. Knowing that for the next 30 minutes it was ok to feel awful and maybe even cry.

I won’t miss you, 2013. You taught me a lot. You saw me in Vegas, Hawaii, Philadelphia and Boston. You saw me at weddings of people I love and farewells of people I miss. You saw me cry over spilled cupcakes and broken windows. You saw me UGLY CRY/SOB/DIE over The Office ending. You heard me say things I didn’t mean and buy things I didn’t need. You saw GALLONS ON GALLONS of Diet Coke consumption. You’ve seen me try hard, fail, give up and get back up to try again in an unending cycle.

2013, you were an unending, awkward struggle. Akin to the painful transition of puberty. Yeah. You were like an adult, emotional puberty.

2013, this is what I wanted from you, as written in last year’s New Year’s post – to have my life figured out. Well you didn’t deliver. Or rather, I didn’t deliver for you. But what’s in the works for 2014 – a new job for The Beard, a new job for me, somewhere to live that isn’t A. Dangerous or B. Tiny, moving closer to the people and pizza places we love (I’m looking at you, Slab!), those things might help me realize that wish, albeit a year later.

So I’m leaving you behind 2013. You’re done. I’m taking the good memories, the smiles and laughs, the new friends and lessons learned. But I’m ditching the bitter feelings, the failures, the mistakes and the parts of me that fell short. I’m closing the door on them and you, 2013.

But 2014? You’re lookin’ pretty good, and 2 days in? I like you already.