I said "Fuck 2016" for the first time last night and immediately regretted it. All the springs had popped out of a lock I was re-keying, and minuscule drive pins were lost to the floor. Earlier I'd been down in my basement making my hands coarse and dry working with fiberglass insulation. I was tired, uncomfortable, and frustrated; and there I was blaming a calendar.
2016 doesn't suck. 2016 is what we made of it, and 2017 isn't going to be magically better simply because the tick of a clock rolls over to the next year.
In 2017, celebrities are going to die. Politicians are going to make short sighted, selfish decisions. Humans will do _vile_ things to one another in the name of their god, their patriotism, and their culture.
So you know what I did? I got down on my hands and knees and found the damned pins. I researched how to reassemble a mechanism that was not designed to be disassembled. I got out tape, toothpicks, and tweezers, and I fixed the fucking lock.
If you want 2017 to be awesome, then make it awesome. If there's a problem, fix it. Mourn the bad but don't let it get ahead of you.