Life is Hard. Let's Go Shopping.

It's inevitable.  This time of year often sparks the nostalgia in me and I start thinking of the past 10 months.  Without fail for at least the past 5 years, I've made it to November-ish and internally (and occasionally externally) exclaim "I am SO GLAD 20xx is over.  What a crap year.  Looking forward to a fresh start." 


ACK.  Why?  Is life really that difficult?  Or am I an overgrown pessimist?  Or has this year truly sucked in a way that would be inappropriate to describe in reading material for the masses?  


Obviously, I put my big girl pants on and forge ahead but it's hard not to ask if I'm being the world's biggest pussy about things.  Maybe I slept in when they handed out this note:


Dear You, 
This all sucks.  A lot.  Haha.  


Sincerely, 
Your Dead Ancestor  


Just for once, I would like to arrive a little less battered come autumn.  I'd like to look back on a year and say "Wow, that was really uneventful.  And because it was so uneventful, I'm now ready to skydive/munch on blowfish/drive in the grocery store parking lot *without* a seat-belt."  


But, no.  Instead, I am shaking my fist at an invisible deity in the sky that I don't believe in anyway.  (And this is as pointless as it sounds.)  


Who is responsible for this nonsense?  Where do I lodge a complaint?  Where can I gleefully answer with expletives the question of How Are We Doing?  


I am reminded of my hippy dippy friends who regularly send notes or requests to "the universe."  As in...  


Dear Universe, 
I need a car.  Please and thanks. 


Sincerely, 
Clueless Idiot 


Or...


Dear Universe, 
Please stop testing me.  I'm trying to learn what you are teaching me.  


Namaste, 
Whole Foods Minion 


I know about these notes because they are Facebook.  Because, of course, the universe has a Facebook account.  Duh.  


Maybe these people are onto something.  Maybe there is some sort of psychic cosmic release when you emote your feelings or request into the universe.  (Or maybe the universe grunts uncomfortably and says "A little lube, please?")  


Perhaps I shouldn't knock what I haven't tried.  So, with the flourish of THIS keystroke (or maybe THIS keystroke) I submit my request for an uneventful year.  Or an uneventful month.  Or a pony. 


This is what I received in response:  


Dear You, 
LOLZZZZZZZZ.  U R so funnie.  N Joy all the shit.  Me n' Steve 4EVAH.  


Luvs,
The Universe (west siiiiiiiiiiiide, yo)  


Yes.  That's what I thought.