If you're wondering what the buzzword for 2018 is, then for me it's loss.
In this year I lost my little feline friend Eccles, one of the sweetest and kindest cats I've ever known. I also lost my old friend Snowy. The little Westie is, along with his dearly-missed best mate Dexter, is responsible for me being here today.
I lost my job, a job I loved and I was bloody good at, due to circumstances beyond my control, circumstances that a certain person refused to acknowledge or take responsibility for.
I lost a friendship. Despite having proved my loyalty to this woman with two years of hard work, and giving her my unconditional support when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, this woman turned her back on me. She treated me like shit, even going as far as bollocking me when I had a severe chest and throat infection, as well as blocking me on Facebook.
I lost a second friendship. The breakdown in the relationship with the aforementioned friend meant that I couldn't give any sympathy and support to her husband after he suffered a stroke. I couldn't visit one of the nicest blokes I've ever known because of the way she treated me. I have no idea how he's doing, and I probably never will
I lost money. The aforementioned friend refused to pay me the wages she owed me, and although I've managed to get some compensation from the good old tax man she still owes me hundreds of pounds.
I've lost respect, respect for the aforementioned friend. Loyalty apparently counts for nothing as far as she's concerned.
Although the year has given me the likes of Archie, a mad as a hatter Patterdale Terrier, and the beautiful black and white cat Tinker and her tabby daughter Marina, it will be difficult to forget all of the crap I've had to put up with.
2018 can fuck right off in my opinion.
Happy New Year.