Belated Cheers to the New Year

When I returned to Philly from Boston several weeks ago, I was physically, emotionally and mentally spent. I should’ve seen the incoming sickness then. How could I not have seen it coming? All the necessary ingredients to foster the growth of something viral were present in the days leading up to the first symptoms. I got back just in time for NYE but wanted to keep things lowkey, so I had two of my closest PA gal pals over last minute for endless appetizers and libations in our pajamas, chatting into the wee hours of the night while some smooth jazz and holiday music played in the background. I didn’t want to ring in the new year solo but I didn’t want too much sensory overload with a crowd of people either, considering the trip home I had just returned from. I definitely had enough food to entertain an army but that was a result of my eyes being bigger than my stomach (in the words of my mom. This is why you shouldn’t go food shopping hungry). I didn’t want us to be without anything and even had meat marinating in the fridge in addition, ready to be grilled in case our appetites got the best of us. I had a slew of sappy movies queued up for us to partake in, but we never got around to them. We ended our chatter just in time to watch the ball drop in NYC, on tv.

The night was an overall success and the conversations continued as we discussed goals for the new year (no more resolutions). I still had some organizing and cleaning to do and thought I would resume doing so on the 1st. One of my friend’s reminded me to leave the cleaning for the 2nd instead if I don’t want to spend the whole year doing so (there’s a superstition that whatever you end up doing on the 1st of the year, you’ll be doing all year round). I wasn’t in the mood to prepare Soup Joumou (Haitian Pumkin Soup that all Haitians have on the 1st in celebration of our independence) either and had planned instead to order it and have it delivered. Well, mother nature had other plans. I awoke the following morning, on News Year’s and Haitian Independence Day, feeling like I had been hit. I was aching, my head was heavy and I had a tickle in my throat. I honestly thought it was fatigue from my long commute back to PA and the subsequent hosting of my friends for NYE, with minimal rest in between. It definitely wasn’t a hangover considering all I had was some red wine and “alcohol-removed” champagne for our toast the night before. I remembered that I hadn’t really rested since I ended work the afternoon of the 22nd. I had been on go for the whole month, went away to visit family, still on level 10 and returned to put on some more. I finally listened to my body and rested in place. I ended up curled up in a ball, in the fetal position on my couch all day, hoping that if I rested whatever sickness I was starting to feel would go away. Well, it only got worse as the days went by. I tested several times for COVID and it kept coming back negative. The body aches, congestion, nausea and coughing got progressively worse. Now that I seem to be on the other side of it, I realize I probably had the flu. Mind you, I went in to work a few days when I thought I was on the mend, only to have to finally take some sick time to medicate and rest. For the most part, I worked remotely from the bedside which I probably needed to stop as well. There was so much to do the first week, so I couldn’t turn my brain all the way off.

I had so many plans NYE weekend and week. I didn’t get to record a new episode of the podcast which was due out on the 31st, but I was leaving it for the 1st (until I got sick and continued to sound like I had a frog in my throat). As you can see, I hadn’t posted to the blog since I returned. Luckily, the majority of my cleaning was done before I left for Christmas break and when I got back on NYE eve, so there is minimal left to do, thank goodness. The one thing I have been able to do though is load up on my content consumption and boy, do I have a lot to say and respond to. As I laid up resting these past few weeks, I watched marathons of true crime YouTube episodes. Not because I wanted to, initially. The algorithm would play episodes back to back on a loop and I was too tired to change the programs and before I knew it, I was hooked (I think I’m back to being spooked about online dating lol). I saw the viral Club Shay Shay interview with Katt Williams and all the subsequent video responses, interviews and commentary revolving around all the people he named. I had the unfortunate opportunity to see Simone Biles’ husband interview and commentary with her husband claiming to be “the prize” and all the takes from the manosphere, red and pink pill communities. Gosh, I have so much to say about it (maybe I’ll make it a podcast topic). I binged watched various Netflix shows and movies, watched a slew of random strangers weddings on YT, watched the Stephen A. Smith rant towards Jason Whitlock (there’s something about the way he kept calling him a “P.O.S.” that tickled me) saw endless videos of Deltas crossing (I guess their founding anniversary was this week), which lead me down a rabbit hole to compare the different chapters, then compare them to the AKAs (sorry AKAs, Deltas got you beat). My favorite content was all the Amapiano DJ sets from around the world, the new Dave Chappelle Netflix special, all the whimsical home tours of people I don’t know giving me more home decor ideas. All of the content I consumed either had me in fits of laughter, intrigued, sad and scared (true crime content on YT might be too much on the psyche) and crying tears of joy for all the couples getting married and watching the joyous occasions of them being celebrated and loved on by their loved ones.

All of this was balanced by all the news I was consuming too. I usually pride myself on regulating the amount of news I take in. Since I was a recluse for most of the time, I couldn’t help but wanting to know all that was happening in the world. Despite it being the new year, nothing has changed much. The world is still a hot mess globally. The “war” is still raging, casualties are continuing to pile up and more conflicts are brewing in the midst of it all. The weather has been showing it’s derriere on the East Coast and gearing up to wreak more havoc on our lives in the coming week. As I look over to my home town, at the Bastion of academic freedom I once used to be affiliated with, the “powers that be” were finally successful in getting rid of it’s first Black woman and Haitian president. No longer can it tout that it lets freedom ring in its halls. It’s the donors that reign supreme. This news also signals the true death of DE&I as we know it. There has been a constant attack on it for a while now but for it to happen in the bluest of blue states, at an institution that has charged itself as being a trailblazer in the world of academia, speaks volumes. I now look to its nearby cousin, which shares the same city name, to see if it will suffer the same fate.

I remain hopeful that this month won’t be a precursor of more shenanigans to come. With MLK day tomorrow, I vow to serve myself more for once. That’s what this year should encompass. My getting sick felt like the universe’s way of slowing me down on purpose to truly reflect on my needs. I am in the throws of preparing for a bucket list trip coming up in the next few weeks. It wasn’t in my plans several months ago, but the way it materialized was surreal and as all the pieces of it started to fall into place, it felt like kismet. It was a location I was hoping to explore with my future significant other but what 2023 taught me is to continue to live life to its fullest and take chances when they present themselves. So that’s what I plan to do this year: to live and love fully. No more chasing the thrills but embracing them as they come. Living and loving intentionally. Opening myself to broader horizons. No more holding on to limiting beliefs. Instead, I’m embracing and setting myself up to receive, abundantly. No more one-sided relationships and situations. Reciprocation is where it’s at.