I didn't see any of this happening.
I was alone. Like alone alone. And happy. I had decided to be happy about it.
But even before that. I worked in television. And I was okay at it. And I went to industry things and networked and saw a future for myself in it for a little while.
And even before that. I watched the Oscars religiously every year from when I was eight until I was twenty and wrote down all the winners and tidbits of speeches that I thought were good in preparation for my own speech that I wanted to give one day.
Before that, I was a kid in drama whose greatest fear was that I would lose my mind and have to take pills to be normal.
Well that happened. I lost my mind and I have to take pills. And I no longer work in TV and I no longer want to win an Oscar and I'm happy. I write sometimes in my spare time and I'm engaged to the love of my life and I have two domesticated animals and I'm domesticated and I'm going to be a nurse and I work in a hospital and I don't get drunk and embarrass myself and I don't go out every night and I go to bed at a reasonable hour and make my lunches the night before and am on time most of the time and am considered to be the responsible one among my peers.
And I miss my old life every three months or so. And this is one of those times.
But for the most part? Three hundred and sixty days out of the year?
Happy. Happy. Happy.