Happy New Year! (Happy New Year?)

I'm glad to see the last of 2025, a tough year in so very many ways. 

Most of those ways, of course, have been around our having to witness the grotesque deterioration of our country. Nothing that, if you're reading Pink Slip, you're not fully aware of. And not worth it to count the many ways in which we've deteriorated. Let's just say the deterioration touches on just about everything. 

At least we're still allowed to hit the streets in protest. But for how long? I have my whiteboard protest sign ready to go. Who knows what many new messages, how many more demonstrations, will be involved. 

I don't see it happening right away, but may the New Year bring better. Lots better. 

My personal hopes for 2026 are few.

Foremost, good health to all whom I hold dear. It's true that, without your health, you got ain't got much. Maybe even nothing.

I hope to get some writing done. (I've rejoined the Writers Room of Boston, where there's nothing to do but write.) 

I hope to get some travel in. Tucson to see my sister Kath. Dallas to see my friend Joyce. Ireland over July 4th, because I really don't want to be here to see the abomination that occupies to fool's gold-ridden Oval Office preen around, celebrating himself while he daily jeopardizes America's position as a functioning democracy. Sigh...

I hope to lose 10 pounds, but that's unlikely, given that chocolate is my stress go-to. And, given the current regime, Im BIG stressed.

Happy New Year, anyway!

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Image Source: Vecteezy