jack shit.
I worked a dead-end job, got fired, havent found a new one yet, had to move back in with my mother, met a girl, got dumped because I look like her ex, finished a novel, read it, realized I had done everything I hate in writing and that I had not created a novel, but one long cliche. before deciding whether to throw it out or submit it to a publisher in hopes of getting a crappy dime novel on the shelves, I accidentally spilled icewater on it, causing the pages to dampen and run with ink. It is now totally unreadable.
I also have officially lost contact with the last of my friends from real life.
I have accomplished nothing this year except that I played some more videogames. yay me
ugh