2024

A new year.

As happens with me sometimes, it’s been a while. Life has been busy. Kids have been energetic. The holidays have been full (of food, family, fun and frustration).

Some things of note:

1.  I am now a Lieutenant Colonel;
2.  I’m currently laid up with, essentially, a broken foot;
3.  I have a memoir manuscript due this month;
4.  I turn 40 in thirty-four days; and
5.  I’m actively looking for more (well-paid) work.

One. The Marine Corps found it fit to promote me once again. I’m a few months shy of 18 years as a commissioned officer; 22 if you count my four years as a midshipman in college. My entire adult life has been in service to the Marines, to my country, in some way. I feel ancient because I’m now one of “those really old officers” I first saw as a butterbar, but I also still feel young, my imposter syndrome somehow lingering. I want to work more in 2024, in the Reserves if I can make it all align, because something about making O-5 has jolted me into the realization that I might actually never be promoted again. Colonel is notoriously hard to get. I’m not sure where life will take me, what the next decade will reveal, or what opportunities will present themselves. I only know I’ll try not to close the door on my next promotion. In a service that rarely lets you make your own career decisions, I’m hanging on to what little control I have. It would be delightful if 2024 contained good news about Top Level School for me, but that’s still a long way away.

Two. I decided to have surgery on my foot. More specifically, on my right big toe. I’m not sure when it started, probably decades ago, but my right big toe joint has been grinding away. Not that long ago, I began to notice an extremely sharp pain when my toe moved just so; it felt like my foot was broken. But that was only occasionally. Then it got worse, especially when I wore combat boots. Then boots in general. Then any footwear that pressed on my toe joint in any way. I had x-rays, but nothing conclusive. I spent six months waiting to see a podiatrist on the NHS. Finally, the consultation. He knew instantly what it was: hallux limitus. Osteoarthritis in my joint and toe that will only ever get worse. Solution: surgery. I said yes. On a local anesthetic, they ground away some of the spurring on my joint and cut a little notch in my toe bone for better freedom of movement. Shortly, I’ll have my bandage removed and see what it looks like. The recovery hasn’t been easy, but it hasn’t been bad. It’ll only get harder as I get older, so I’m glad I got it done. I have high hopes everything will work out just fine and I’ll delay the inevitable by a decade or two. Medical science never ceases to amaze me.

Three. My manuscript for my memoir is due this month. Holy cow, it’s actually happening. As it’s my first book, I’m feeling more and more like it’s not ready, what I’ve written isn’t what I want, and that I’m missing so many pieces. But I have a publisher. They have editors. They’ve already paid me a modest advance. Worst case is that they say no thanks, ask for the advance back, and I find a new one. Happened to Barack Obama with Dreams from My Father. Not great, but not the end of the world. But so many of my family and friends have told me, chill. You’re exactly where you should be. You’ll get the help you need, your book will come together, you’ll be fine. I know I’m sometimes my worst critic, so it’s sometimes really nice to have other people believe in me when I’m unsure. I just really, really want this book to be my best work.

Four. I’m almost 40. It’s a big milestone. It’s simultaneously old (Marine) and young (author). It’s definitely a bookmark in my life that feels larger than when I turned 30. If you go by life expectancy, I’m halfway there. I’ve got silver hair on my head, in my eyebrows, down below. I’m more tired and less patient, and the circles under my eyes are at least twice as deep as in my twenties. But it’s also a fresh decade. A productive age. A time to start (or restart) new hobbies and interests. A time to make money and spend it. A time to reconnect with my husband and children, to really focus on what matters in life. To take the bull by the horns and take risks, wake up early, live a little. I want to exercise more and in more interesting ways (tennis, anyone?). I want to travel more, even if it’s an hour drive in the car. I want to camp, hike, and generally be out in nature more. That’s my jam, nature. It refreshes me, revives me, rehabilitates me. I will stop pining about doing things and just start doing them.

Five. Money: it makes the world go ‘round. And I’m looking for more of it. Specifically, with the skillset I’ve honed over the past two decades in the military, but my writing degree may play a part, too. Honestly, I wish my military wage could pay for my creative writing, but that’s not how this game is played. Well, unless you’re Mr. King or JKR. And as much as I hope my book sells well, I’m under no impression that I’m about to retire early due to book sales, a movie deal, and tons of merch. Then again, I’m not someone who thinks being a millionaire will solve all my problems; I’ve always harbored a desire to live in a tree like Sam Gribley in My Side of the Mountain. But I know that opportunities are fleeting, my new rank means a beefier paycheck that I ought to exploit, and I can capitalize on my writing, especially with a book contract signed.

2024 will be a year of change. Probably of adaptation and flexibility. Possibly of sacrifice and hard choices. And likely of learning and growth. I hope my choices enrich not only my life, but of those around me. I sincerely wish this year offers more peace, quiet, and calmness. I want to take control in different ways, steering my course more than it steers me. I want to pause to appreciate more: my children, my husband, my environment. I want to connect more than I have, making the time for longer phone calls, lengthier emails, and scribbling more than a handful of actual letters. I want to plan further ahead, organizing breaks and weekends with more intention. I want to collaborate more so I don’t feel like most of life’s logistics fall on my shoulders. And I want to reach out more, exploring options that may be beyond me, but will never be discovered if I don’t look.

I know one thing for sure – this year will be different than the last.

Happy New Year, everyone.