2017 Was So The Year of the Fire Rooster

Though I try to be positive, on reflection, I have concluded that 2017 was a bit of a bummer. From worldwide geopolitical upheaval to unrelenting inappropriate touching (not by me, by every other man in the world, apparently), it just didn't seem a very hopeful 12 months. This was also the case within my personal life. It was one dreary crisis after another. The economy stank. A good friend moved far away. The local hockey team sucked. Tom Petty died. The Ken doll was given a hipster makeover. There was even a discussion about a soda tax...

Then in June, during an out-of-town funeral for a rather beloved family member, a water line in our toilet connection snapped and a flood took out 70% of house. A flood! So biblical.

Gawd, it was just a terrible year.

But all that is past us now. It's a new year. 2018...The Year of the Smoking Dog. According to the Chinese Zodiac my horoscope says: In 2018, the Goat (me) learns to say no and manages to prioritize his personal goals for himself against the desires of his loved ones.

Seems bang on.

2018 don't disappoint me.