Did I do anything last year?

When an old year ends and New Year begins to peek over the horizon, we can’t help but reflect back on our successes and failures throughout last year’s calendar. Personally, I am beginning to think that I really didn’t DO anything in 2008. Or, perhaps, this year just pales in comparison to all the stuff I did the year before.

In 2006 and 2007, a lot of big things happened:

I moved
I purchased a home
I got married
I got a dog
I got a new job

In 2008, I…uh, um did projects around the house? Wait, what did I do? Surely, there was some major accomplishment or accolade during those 12 months. One cannot go an entire year without doing something noteworthy, can they? Upon further inspection, I have concluded that rather than major accomplishments, I instead had small victories along the way.

I ran a half marathon, a 5K, a 10K, completed a triathlon and attended many, many weddings. I put new handles and hinges on every single cabinet door in our kitchen. I realized it takes 3 hours to put new handles and hinges on every kitchen cabinet door. I refinished and painted an entire kitchen’s worth of cabinets, painted a 400 square-foot room, mastered the art of painting stripes, became an aunt for the second time and found out a third time is soon coming.

I dropped a gym membership and purchased a treadmill and a bicycle. I gained a new boss (twice) and aided in my second (unsuccessful) levy campaign. I bought four bedrooms worth of new carpet, helped install crown molding and (successfully, after the second try) installed two overhead light fixtures all by myself. I put new doorknobs on every door in my house. I bought new countertops and a front door and screamed as water poured from the ceiling. I rolled my eyes at the hole it left that still greets me daily.

I started a new business venture and planted a vegetable garden. I mowed the lawn on my own and stained the deck. I pulled weeds, planted flowers and laid mulch. I trimmed hedges, got a nasty sunburn and painted the mailbox post, front porch and garage. I agreed to purchase a 90-lb. solid concrete bulldog wearing a football helmet. I gasped at just how much water was in the basement and shoved a lot of moldy carpet out of a really tiny window. I enjoyed destroying a bathroom with my gloved hands and a sledgehammer. I dreamed of how great it would look someday. I nearly fainted when I realized how expensive a new bathroom is. I fell deeply in love with coffee. I let the dog lay on the furniture and rushed to “tidy up” before people came over. I organized the garage, cleaned out closets and felt really, really good about it.

I turned 25 and remembered 10 years ago when 25 was old. I gained muscle, went cold turkey on eating pretzels, drank less alcohol, drank more water and grew up a little. I gave up my one Red Bull and protein bar a day habit. I forced myself to eat grapefruit and I liked it. I held babies, heard many baby announcements and considered what it might be like to have one of my own. Then, I realized how much I like to travel and do whatever I want, whenever I want (sorry, mom).

I went to Chicago, Michigan and Cincinnati. I made plans to visit Baltimore and Colorado. I realized how expensive new brakes are and how un-squeaky they sound. I realized it’s OK to only own two hand-me-down television sets, neither of which have plasma screens. I understood why no one wanted to watch a football game at our house.

I logged many miles on the road, some painful, most enjoyable. Some involved tears, others running from dogs and cars. All meant something.

I’m sure I have missed a small accomplishment or two, but I am already beginning to feel like less of a failure. Then again, there’s always 2009 to make up for lost time.