I’m sitting on the floor in front of my desk rather than in the chair. I’m very tired. I’ve spent the entire evening going through rough drafts of essays for my students. That can be exhausting work, especially as I’ve worked as an editor before. I don’t want to tear apart their work the same way, though, because students simply don’t respond well to that level of correction. Instead, I try to point out the biggest things and keep them encouraged.

It was about a year ago that I made the transition from professional writer and editor to full-time academia. It’s a change I desperately needed. But a year ago I was also sitting on the floor in this very space. That’s because I hadn’t put my desk together yet. I had just moved here. In fact, if my math is right, one year ago from right this very moment had me rolling into a motel in western Wyoming, exhausted from a wheel-clenching ice drive across Nebraska. Note to self: next time I reboot my life, do it in the summer.

A lot has certainly changed for me in that year. I went from starting to express femme to burying that again here in a mining town. Then I kind of came out all over again as non-binary, though there a lot of people who still don’t know. I got divorced. I saved a good chunk of the money I’ll need for a down payment on a house. I met J. I survived more than half of my time apart from K. I went to a baseball game in Tennessee and endured some miserably hot weather in South Carolina.

I went from owning a couple of dresses to having a largely femme wardrobe, which I think really matches my identity. I learned how to do eye makeup my way. I’ve largely kept my apartment the way I want it. I flew kites.

A year is a bit over 1% of life for each of us, so I take what happens each year pretty seriously. And I’m proud of this year, though there’s much more for me to do in 2017. Australia. Saving more money. Coming out to my family. It sounds like the promise I made to K a ways back: it’ll never be boring. No, 2017 won’t be that.