2024 was not the worst year of my life, but it definitely wasn’t a good year. The first three or four years of every decade tend to suck. I doubt that my claim could be backed up by science, but I’ve lived long enough to see the beginnings of a pattern. 2024 was well in line with 1984, 1994, 2004, and 2014.

2024 Was An Expensive Year

After two years of living car-free in the car-centric, suburban nightmare that is Southern California, we were forced to buy a car. Bonnie started a job at the end of November in another town, and we had been renting cars since Thanksgiving. It was getting expensive, but by January, she felt confident enough in her continued employment to buy a car. Buying a car actually saved us some money monthly, but it took a chunk of change upfront in January.

2024 Is Already Headed Down The Drain

February brought us a $1,000 plumbing bill due to a clogged sewer line. That was only the start of our plumbing problems, though. The carpet in our bedroom was damp, the tile in the bathroom was wet, and there were tiny little millipedes everywhere. Something was leaking. I thought it was the toilet, so I replaced it and snaked the line, but that was not the problem. The problem was that the hot water line was leaking in the slab.

From 2009 to 2024, I never missed a payment, nor had I even been late paying my insurance premiums. But, after 15 years of eagerly accepting my money, State Farm bent me over my bathroom sink, yanked down my pants, threw a little sand on its tiny, shriveled, gray dick, and fucked me in the ass, dry.

They sent a leak detection company out to find the leak. They came close, but they didn’t find it. Then, without actually seeing the leak, State Farm said that it had been leaking for too long, and they denied my claim. Mind you, I didn’t even know how long the pipe had been leaking, so I don’t know how State Farm could.

Now, nearly a full year later, I still have a hole in my bathroom floor, a hole in my wall, and no flooring in my bedroom or living room. I also can’t get insurance from anyone else because of my “claims history.” One claim in 20 years of homeownership, and suddenly, I’m too risky to insure. As an added fuck you, State Farm not only denied my claim, but they doubled my premium. Thanks a fucking bunch State Farm, you miserable bunch of cocksuckers.

Chiseling My Way Out Of 2024

I spent the month of March chiseling concrete out of my bathroom floor. It took ages. I started off with a hammer and chisel but quickly realized that I needed more power. So, I walked out to the bus stop, rode the bus to Harbor Freight, bought a powerful electric chisel, walked back out to the bus stop, rode the bus back home, and got back to work. Sure, 2024 was technically the year we ended our car-free experiment, but Bonnie had the car at work, so Monday through Friday, I was still at the mercy of my city’s pathetic excuse for public transportation.

My new tool was like a cross between a big drill and a tiny jackhammer. It was significantly heavier than my hammer and chisel, so it was more exhausting, but it was more productive, too. I made my way through the concrete fractions of an inch at a time. Progress was slow, and I was beginning to wonder if what I was doing was right. I read online that the slab should only be about 4 – 6 inches thick. By the time I passed one foot and still hadn’t broken through the bottom of the slab, I was questioning every decision I had ever made in my life.

I finally found the bottom of the concrete 16″ below the top of the slab. That was the easy part. Now, I had to repair the leak. None of the hardware stores in town sold the kind of copper pipe I needed, so I had to go to a plumbing supply store to buy 60′ of copper pipe that I would never use.

April: My Least Favorite Month Of Any Year

April has traditionally been the worst month of my year. Every April for as long as I can remember, Bonnie and I have endured broken bones, torn muscles, and, more than anything else, illness. April 2024 was no exception. I started out the month with COVID. Who gave it to me is still under investigation, but when I find out who it was, they’ll pay.

Because it took so long to track down the right pipe and because I was sick, we were well into April before I got around to replacing the pipe. Finding the pipe was only half the challenge of this repair, though. California requires copper pipes under a slab to be brazed, so I had to teach myself to braze. I practiced brazing before I put the pipe in the hole, and I did alright. In the hole was a different story. I couldn’t get all of the water out of the pipe, so I couldn’t get a solid joint. I ended up tagging in a plumber. Despite all of his tools and experience, he still spent four hours replacing the pipe. It took weeks for the concrete to dry out completely.

A Bright Spot In The Darkness

I ended April with a mini vacation. Bonnie had to go to a conference in San Diego, and I tagged along. I spent a week hanging out in a hotel room, making YouTube videos, writing, and people-watching. It was heaven. Since I was a kid, I’ve always heard people talk about how much they love San Diego. My whole life, I’ve suspected they were talking about a different San Diego than the one I knew. I wanted to find out what all the hype was about on this trip, so I spent a whole day driving all over San Diego. The only really cool thing I found was a bridge that spanned a ravine in the middle of a neighborhood. I never found the San Diego I’ve heard so much about, and I still don’t understand why people gush about the whale’s vagina.

2024 Could Have Been Worse… For Me

April 2024 ended with an appearance in Federal Court, not for me, but for my friend’s brother. He and a buddy from high school embezzled 4.8 million dollars from the company his buddy worked for. My friend asked me to come to show support, so I did. I love court. It’s fascinating.

Everything Is Wet…

May of 2024 started off much in the same way as the previous three months. As I mentioned earlier, the concrete took forever to dry, so the bedroom and living room both stunk, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I tore out all of the carpet. I knew we wouldn’t be able to replace it anytime soon, but I could live with a concrete floor more easily than a stinky carpet.

…And Now It’s Getting Hot

The weather started to warm up in May, which meant I started to slow down. I can’t handle the heat. When the temperature reaches 80º, my body starts to shut down. I feel like shit, I can’t focus, and I get depressed and lethargic. Every summer, I try to mitigate the effect heat has on me, but it’s all negligible. From May through October, I’m a zombie. 2024 was no exception.

The Verdict Is In

Two weeks after I popped into federal court to support my friend’s brother, I returned to support him once again on the last day of his trial. I got to hear the closing arguments from both sides, and neither sounded good for him. Having heard his side of the story for years, I knew he was guilty, but hearing the case against him left no room for doubt. 2024 was arguably worse for him than it was for me.

Possibly My Biggest Failure Of 2024

June was relatively productive as I powered through my misery. I worked on various projects but didn’t finish any of them. Bonnie wanted to go camping for her birthday, so I planned a camping trip. I failed. I made a reservation for the campsite, but I didn’t plan meals or activities. Then, I waited until we got to the campgrounds to go shopping for food, not because I was lazy or anything, but because I didn’t see the point in buying a bunch of food, taking it home, putting it in the fridge, taking it back out of the fridge, packing it into the car, and driving it to the campsite.

We ended up spending way more money at a Vons near the campground than we would have back at home. Plus, I’ve never seen so many people in a grocery store in my life. And so, we spent most of the first day procuring supplies for the two-day trip.

My second failure was not reserving a boat at the lake where we camped. The website said that they strongly encourage reservations on weekends and holidays. We were looking to take a boat out on a Monday, so I didn’t bother to make a reservation. What I didn’t know, however, was that they only had three boats. I can’t remember a time that Bonnie ever expressed her disappointment in me, but she was loud and clear on her birthday in 2024.

More Perspective Telling Me 2024 Wasn’t So Bad… For Me

July was relatively uneventful for me. It was a life-altering month for my neighbors, though. My neighbor, John, died after a nearly two-year fight with liver cancer. He was the last bit of character in an increasingly homogeneous neighborhood. When you saw him, he always waved and said hi. When you heard Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, Charlie Parker, or other jazz greats coming down the street, you knew it was him, rolling slowly down the street. And when you smelled weed in the evening air, you knew he was watering his lawn.

For most of the time that he lived across my street, our interactions were limited to a friendly wave and a “How’s it goin’.” I didn’t even know his name. Then, one day, Bonnie and I were at our local Ford dealership looking at cargo vans because I was thinking about upgrading my carpet-cleaning van. We had sort of snuck onto the back of the lot where they kept the commercial vehicles to avoid having to deal with a salesman. It worked for a bit, but we were inevitably spotted.

I heard a voice shout, “Hey neighbor!” My eyes did a complete 360 as they rolled in their sockets. Oh god! I thought. Neighbor? That’s the new tactic? I’m from Simi, you’re from Simi, so we’re neighbors? Give me a fuckin’ break. But then, I saw who was walking toward me. At first, I didn’t recognize him because I had trouble recognizing people, especially out of the context in which I am familiar with them.

Yeah, I’m a Shitty Neighbor

A woman lived in the house behind me for four years. I live on a corner, so she was like a next-door neighbor. It wasn’t until she sold her house and moved out that I realized that the woman who always said hi to me at Costco was my neighbor. So, when I finally made the connection that the car salesman was, in fact, my neighbor, I thought, Oh, it’s not just a line from a salesman. This guy is literally my neighbor! 🤦‍♂️

The three of us piled into a cargo van and went for a 30-minute test drive. When Bonnie asked me where I was going and how long I planned on driving around, John said to take as long as I wanted because the longer we were out, the longer he could stay off of his feet.

We became more neighborly after that day. I was sad to hear that he had passed. He was a fixture in the neighborhood, and it’s not as lively and interesting without him.

My COVID Hiatus Officially Ended

August saw my return to the cleaning industry and in an unusual way. A homecare staffing agency hired me to remove melted plastic from an oven at one of their client’s homes. One of their employees was responsible. The job interested me because it was such a unique challenge and something I had never encountered before. Any regrets I may have had about leaving the cleaning business evaporated on that job. I enjoy cleaning things, but I hate dealing with people. I had barely even begun when the woman started rushing me to finish. Once a person gets like that, there’s no way to make them accept that sometimes shit takes longer than their patience. I didn’t do as good a job as I could have as a result and left the woman’s house feeling like I had let down the client.

Send Your Resume To The Ether

In September, I stumbled upon a Craigslist ad seeking a videographer to follow a guy around for social media. In the ad was a link to a Loom video. I had never heard of Loom before, but I quickly realized it’s just Marco Polo for businesses. In his three-minute video, he explained who he was and what he was looking for in a videographer. I ticked all of his boxes. He requested that applicants email their resumes or send a video on Loom explaining why they qualify for the position.

My mind started racing. I spent the whole next day recording and editing a video resume that showed how I was the perfect candidate. When I was satisfied with it, I went back to the Craigslist ad to get the email address to send it to. There wasn’t one. I watched the video again to see if he mentioned where to send it. He didn’t. He said to send a Loom, so I installed the Loom extension, and after fumbling around with it I discovered that you can’t upload a video to Loom. You can only record a video with your webcam. Not that that mattered because I didn’t know where to send the Loom anyway. There was no way to send anything to this guy.

Eventually, I found two email addresses, multiple websites, two YouTube channels, and an Instagram for this clown, and after perusing all of his content, I still couldn’t figure out what it is that he does. I think he does marketing for businesses, but I sure as shit wouldn’t hire him because he’s really bad at it. I sent links to my video to the Craigslist email, a Gmail I found, and I sent him two messages on Instagram. He still hasn’t watched it.

In Other September 2024 News

A considerable chunk of my September was spent documenting a busted traffic light near my house. I made a video about it that took off and brought a significant amount of attention to a small YouTube channel that I had started a few years ago as a kind of a joke. I never expected anyone to see it, but see it they did.

Octoberfestering

I spent October trimming trees. I have eight trees in my yard, and I love them, but I hate maintaining them. They were getting out of control because I hadn’t trimmed them for the past few years due to the aforementioned disdain for yard maintenance. I wanted to make sure I was done in time to take advantage of the free dump day on the 20th. I succeeded, but at what cost? At this point in my life, I’m ready for a 1,000-square-foot apartment overlooking the beach. Unfortunately, this life is not the one in which that will ever happen.

October 2024 was chock full of manual labor. In addition to all of the yard work I grudgingly accomplished, I also built a coffin, not for Halloween, but as a prop for a video I made about Halloween. The first thing I ever built from scratch was a coffin when I was 12, and the last thing that I built from scratch was also a coffin 34 years later. It took all that time for me to realize, at 46, that I don’t enjoy building things. I like the idea of building things, but I really don’t enjoy working with my hands.

They say you change as you get older, but I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re born into a circumstance, whether it suits you or not, and you spend your whole life trying to make the best of it. It’s only if you’re lucky enough to be afforded an opportunity to try something else that you can find out where your passion lies.

No Cuts, No Butts, November Nuts

I spent the first half of November working on a video that I would ultimately abandon. I might come back to it; we’ll see.

A week before Thanksgiving, I was cleaning the kitchen and got stuck with a large shard of glass in my middle finger. It hit a nerve and I still have no feeling in the tip of that finger.

I made Thanksgiving dinner this year, and I went overboard. I spent two days making a brisket, six side dishes, and two pies while my son made two appetizers and Bonnie made her famous rolls. Dinner didn’t even last 20 minutes. We had leftovers for a week, though.

A Very Judicial Year

Just Like May, I started December 2024 off in court. This time, I was called for jury duty, but unlike the other 99 people who were called the same day I was, I actually wanted to be there. I made it through two rounds of jury selection but was ultimately eliminated by the defense. It was a weed DUI case, and the defense attorney asked us if any of us had never smoked weed. I raised my hand, so he asked me why I had never smoked weed. In hindsight, if I wanted to make the cut, I shouldn’t have been as honest as I was. Oh well. There’s always next year. 🤞

A Truncated Christmas Season

In December 2002, Bonnie and I moved from one apartment to another, so we didn’t get any Christmas decorations set up until 2 weeks before Christmas. Initially, I thought, why even bother? But I learned that year that 2 weeks is the perfect amount of Christmas.

One might think, then, that I would prefer years like 2024, when we have only 3.5 weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, as opposed to years like 2018 when there are nearly 5 weeks between the two. Well, one would be wrong. I actually prefer the longer Christmas season. While I prefer not having a ridiculous, non-sensical tree in my living room for 5 weeks, I enjoy seeing the decorations other people waste their time and money on.

When we’re shorted two whole weeks, the season feels rushed and harried. There were only three weekends before Christmas in December this year. That means all of the parties, events, activities, and shopping have to be crammed into a condensed schedule. It’s too much.

Looking Forward To 2025

Earlier this evening, Bonnie announced that she was endeavoring to be more positive in 2025. I’m generally a positive person, but I keep it to myself. As such, everyone thinks I’m very negative. Positive people annoy me, especially when they try to force positivity in a shit situation. Their world is burning down around them while they stand there and say, “Everything is great. Just gotta stay positive,” through gritted teeth. I get it, though. I don’t like being around people who are constantly bitching, so I should probably make more of an effort to project less negativity.

Perhaps when I write a year-end recap of 2025, it will be a list of everything I was grateful for in 2025. 2024 was not all bad, of course. I learned some things about myself, which means I’m growing as one should always be. I also stopped looking backward this year. I’ve always sought comfort in the old and familiar. I have a collection of movies that I watch every year, throughout the year. I wasn’t interested in them this year. From 2013 through 2023, Bonnie and I watched How I Met Your Mother from start to finish every year. We started it after daylight saving time ended and finished before the year ended. We didn’t watch it this year. I wasn’t interested, I wasn’t looking for comfort, I wanted new experiences. I hope 2025 has lots of new experiences for me.

So, as 2024 comes to a welcomed, anticipated, and inevitable end, I will barely even notice because I am already in 2025 in my mind as I look ahead to the new year and beyond. Good riddance 2024! Here’s to a productive and prosperous new year!