Over the course of these retrospectives I’ve compared my life to a movie series a few times, and I’m gonna use that analogy again here: 2015 was a straight-up reboot of 2011. A low-stress period of peace and regrowth with no unwelcome surprises. I loved it. I love love love love love loved it.

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It’s hard to properly communicate what 2013 felt like. The most appropriate descriptor I can assign to it is a slight headache, with a little nausea thrown in on the side. Some important things did happen, most of which weren’t great, but none really meant much. It was bad and boring and annoying. A stale, uncomfortable period of time spent floating far too long down a lukewarm Lazy River type attraction at a theme park.

Ultimately, it was a necessary transition into a new part of my life that was unnecessarily long. A protracted prologue that really didn’t need to exist. There were very few standout moments, and if they’d been shuffled into the preceding or following years I could have entirely done without it. It was just a pointless prelude to the trainwreck that was 2014.

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