I’ve defended prisons and denounced politicians. I’ve talked of death and being lost in this Jumanji of a year. I’ve celebrated the lives of two grandparents, a cousin and a feline fellow that was the embodiment of Fat Thor. 

Now, sitting here staring down the barrel of turning 40, I want to put the past 11 months in the rearview, or at least begin the process. There’s been a lot to unpack in this Frankenstein of a year, and we don’t really know if it is going to end. For all we know, the clock could strike midnight Dec. 31 and it would roll over to a thirteenth month.