I didn’t do much today. I woke up pretty leisurely around 10:00AM because I finished season 1 of Game of Thrones last night and didn’t get to sleep until 2:00. I went to Bagel World and got a bacon, egg, and cheese on an everything. I went to Cafe Martin and got a coffee that I switched to a red eye after hearing the woman in front of me request one. I watched more Game of Thrones. I took a nap. I went out and bought a couple of new shirts and a pair of jeans. Then I went past the Atlantic Antic, which I didn’t know was happening on a pretty unfortunate rainy day, to Barnes and Noble and bought the first Game of Thrones book.*

It was a nice Sunday. And I feel like a Sunday like this wouldn’t have happened a year ago.

It occurred to me last night after I ran twelve miles with some friends. This time last year, I was still smoking. Daily. To and from the subway, at lunch, on my coffee break. Five miles was a long run for me.

This time last year I wouldn’t really allow myself to feel relaxed on a Sunday because, while I had my job then, it was still on a freelance basis and, if recent history had held, could end at any moment.

This time last year I wouldn’t have gone out and bought clothes (which I do kind of need, I’ve been wearing the same few button down shirts for about three years now) because I was either still paying off or close to paying off $7,000 in credit card debt.

This time last year I was still getting B12 shots and doing physical therapy for my foot drop.

This time last year, my improv team of six years was falling apart.

This time last year I was single and pretty miserable.

I also read more of the book Less today. I’m simultaneously enjoying it and wondering if this was an off year for fiction eligible for the Pulitzer because it’s not blowing me away. I might not be bright enough to truly understand its significance or subtle brilliance or whatever. Game of Thrones never won a Pulitzer and that has clearly captured my imagination.

But I just reached the part where the main character Arthur Less talks about his latest novel and how no one will really care about a middle aged white man wandering around San Francisco lamenting his state in life.

All this is to say, the time investment for a blog post versus a novel notwithstanding, that I don’t expect anyone to marvel at my journey. And while I may be thinking such platitudes as, “What a difference a year makes!” I won’t be signing off that way.

Last year sucked but how bad was it really? I wasn’t in any real danger of losing my health or my life as I knew it. I was just going through a bad time and then I came out of it. Living with the ever-present cocktail of anger, fear, and anxiety does feel far away, though. It’s the distance that feels good and it’s surprising to be reminded that it was only last year.

And if you’ve been to this blog before you’re probably thinking, “Uh, the fear and anxiety last year?” Fair point but last year was special both for its intensity and ubiquity. To illustrate, this time last year I wasn’t even writing at all because I could never quiet my mind enough.

I got a call from my cousin Donna yesterday. She always calls when she’s in the car and I’ve come to enjoy the white noise of the traffic in the background. She said I sounded great but she signed off the call the same way she did whenever she’d call at this time last year. “Just live one moment at a time and don’t worry about tomorrow.”

Right now I’m sitting at my kitchen table writing my blog post while looking at my iPhone timer to see when I can go to my building’s basement and put my laundry in the dryer so I’ll have running clothes for tomorrow morning. I feel fine, which feels pretty amazing right now.

Also, later I’m going to watch more Game of Thrones.