January 3, 2021

Empty champagne glass, party hat, calendar 01 January, with blood spatter

Despite it making no sense, the start of a new calendar year brings the hope for better times. I know that turning the calendar page doesn’t reset my luck or make me into the type of goal-setting, energetic author-entrepreneur that I long to be. But I couldn’t help but hope that this year, I’d finally do everything necessary to become a productive and happy person.

I greeted the start of 2021 with an open mind and a determination to redirect my habitually negative thoughts into thoughts of possibility and positivity.

So, naturally, how did my 2021 start? By me cutting the base of my finger while using a pair of scissors to remove the corner on a bag of frozen berries.

It wasn’t that big or deep a cut, but dang if it didn’t bleed. A lot.

Apparently, 2021 required a blood sacrifice. The question is, now that the blood has been spilled, am I in for a spate of good luck? Or bad?

I shudder to think.

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