2016 has been quite a year. Globally, nationally, and personally, we’ve all experienced our fair share of chaos. For me, this was my first semester of college. I was introduced to a new school in a new city, with no familiar friends or family in the area. Aside from briefly talking to my roommate over text before the school year started, I was on my own.

A new school and city also meant new experiences in general. I had to share a room with someone I didn’t know very well, had to live in a building with dozens of girls in the same situation as me. I experienced independence in a way I never had. No longer did I have to ask for permission to go somewhere or hang out with someone. It was a kind of freedom that very quickly went to my head and resulted in far too many late night Taco Bell trips. I was completely responsible for myself, my sleep patterns, my cleanliness, my homework.

And there was plenty of homework. I elected to take 7 classes my first semester of college, adding up to 17 credits. The workload was unreal. I encountered anxiety on a platform unprecedented, and yet, all too familiar. I lost more sleep than I realized was possible for a person to survive on. Still, I managed.

Then there were the hurricanes. The first was Hermine. Somehow, I managed to avoid this one. My mom and I had a trip planned for Atlanta that coincided with the day Hermine hit St. Augustine. Conveniently, classes were cancelled that day so I received no unexcused absences since apparently the school doesn’t excuse family trips even if they are scheduled a year in advance. The school lost a day but the area wasn’t really affected. My hometown, however, lost power for a week. It was like the apocalypse: Target had only emergency lighting, security guards watching all night; people hopped from house to house, going anywhere that had a generator; car batteries were the only way to charge your phone. The real heavy hitter for me was Hurricane Matthew. If you read my Personal Update regarding the situation, you know I was banished from my school for a week while the city was in hell. It was an unexpected and disorienting event, an anomaly which disrupted the school year and which I hope will not be repeated.

And of course, there was the election. I haven’t mentioned the election on here, mostly because I’ve been too speechless and infuriated to synthesize a coherent post on the matter. I don’t intend to start a rant now, but as you may have guessed I was rather devastated by the results. No matter who you support, you cannot deny that the country and the world are likely to see enormous change from this election.

Due to all of this, my first semester was a whirlwind which I do not expect to experience again, an outlier that I can’t compare my future semesters to. But even though it was chaotic, I don’t want to focus on the fear or the stress or the disaster. I want to think of happiness.

In my desk, I keep a small gray notebook. The title is on the first page: “Little Book of Happiness”. Listed out is anything that makes me happy. I have people who inspire me, places I like to shop, things I like to do, and best of all, memories. 

Stargazing: my friends and I drove for hours trying to find a place to sit and look for shooting stars only to discover we’d embarked on the wrong night.

Shooting stars: later that week we looked up at the sky at 3 am and laid down on the school courtyard and stared up until each of us saw 3 shooting stars.

The fort: when my roommate and I need a walk, no matter the hour, we walk to the fort. It’s not far and there’s always room on the wall to sit and hear the ocean roar, to look for sea turtles in the light and blinking boats in the dark.

2 am milkshakes: my friends and I went to Steak ‘n Shake under the assumption that we could get happy hour half-priced milkshakes, forgetting that happy hour didn’t apply to Saturdays. We got regular price milkshakes anyway and stayed until 4 am. And regardless of cost, it was a happy two hours.

Maybe I’m just being sentimental because it’s the end of the semester and I don’t want to do my research paper or think about not seeing my friends for a month. Either way, I have a point I’m getting to. I’m not saying that the world can’t be scary and irrational and tragic. But it can contain good, in its people, in its moments. Those things can be easy to forget in the massive scale of the world. I guess that’s why it’s called a little book of happiness, to keep track of the little things. I suggest you keep track of yours. Grab a pen. Write some happy words.

That’s all for now. Thanks for reading.

To know that my writing affects someone in a meaningful way, gives me joy. Then, I know my writing is worthwhile.

-Joan Hall