I stood in the rain and felt it running down my skin in small streams; my hair as messy as ever and I knew in that moment: it will be a different year than the one I left behind. This 2008. It wasn't. It was more of the same, but this time around I had a small audience that witnessed it all.
It was one of those complex Christmas holidays with too many family members cramping into a small holiday home at the coast. Everyone was falling over each other and tension was on the rise. I remember it well: The spray of the sea as I escaped with the dogs to the beach; the cars parked in rows along the dune and the restless fishermen walking with their rods over the crunching pebbles. It was suppose to work out well when we all got together for the family festival, and it didn't. Not be a long shot, or at least that's what my friend Danni said when I called her in the evenings to complain about the crazed children that teased the dogs relentlessly: "It aint gonna work, Sue - you are not made to be with people". Oh my! She could push my buttons with her brutal honesty, knowing me too well for my own good. Well, it didn't work - and it continued 'not working' the entire year of 2008... The cold evenings in the guest bedroom in my own home was just the start of a dreadful 363 days. I lost two days on plane trips to London to see a friend I should have written off eight years ago: Benjamin. It was such a waste of time.