The New Year is upon us.
In terms of my own life, this year has been a long road full of some serious ups and some serious downs. I sometimes wonder how I came out of it without a bad case of whiplash.
And, next year is shaping up to be just as wild of a ride.
So, I decided to make a few resolutions that I will do my best to stick to.
Like everyone else in the world, I’m going to try and get myself into some kind of shape. You know you need to do something about your weight when you get winded just walking to the mailbox. My mailbox is all of ten feet from my front door.
I am going to conquer my fear of spiders. The few times I have caught one on me, I have practically taken all of my clothes off and screamed like I was about to be murdered. The last time I found one I was on my back porch and darn near undressed myself while standing outside. Luckily, the neighbors were all either gone or inside their houses. If I don’t do something about this, I won’t be so lucky the next time.
I am going to stop stressing over every little thing. I have noticed my hair is starting to go a little grey, and I just can’t have that happen yet. I’m 31 years old, for heaven’s sakes. I’ll go grey when I’m good and ready. Until then, I will cozy up to a box of Clairol.
I will deny the fact that I am dying the grey out of my hair and pretend that my hair is naturally a beautiful shade of dark brown.
I will stop drinking regular Pepsi and switch to diet. Actually, let me rephrase that. I am going to TRY to stop drinking regular Pepsi and switch to diet.
I am going to stop adding my own narration to every show on the History Channel. My husband loves that silly channel, but each time I am in the room I do this monotone thing and make up my own words to go with whatever program is on. For instance, when he was watching a show on the ancient pyramids of Egypt and the tools they used to build them. Talking over the guy who was already doing a good job explaining things, I said, “And here, we have this big stick. The ancient Egyptians used this big stick to build the big triangles that you see sitting in the sand before us.”
My husband was not impressed. He said I sounded like the teacher on Ferris Bueller.
I am going to stop beating my husband to death when he snores. I should know by now that elbowing, slapping, pushing and hissing does not make the noise stop.
I am going to buy my husband a soundproof face mask. Otherwise, #7 will not be possible.
I will start making my son clean his room more often instead of allowing it to get so bad I need a roll of garbage bags and a hazmat suit to even walk through his door.
I am not going to faint or go into all-out hysterics. I’m an author, now. Authors wear hip clothes, dark rimmed glasses and sit around and look serious while they drink expensive coffee. They do not have mini-strokes and panic attacks.
I am going to go out and buy myself a black turtleneck, a pair of dark colored corduroys and a lifetime membership to the Starbucks Coffee of the Month club so I fit in with my author-type peers.
I’m not going to buy anymore pajama pants. I have, at the very least, thirty pairs and they are all tacky, if not a little tattered. I have PJs with stripes, polka dots, zigzags, hula girls, martini glasses, band names and flowers. Enough is enough.
I am going to get a haircut. I’m starting to look a little bit like a member of a generic 80s hair band.
I’m going to get more sleep. If the bags under my eyes get any worse, I’m going to be dragging them behind me when I walk. I look like the creepy guy from The Rocky Horror Picture Show and it just isn’t very attractive.
Last but not least, I am going to make my family a top priority. Even though they drive me batty sometimes, I love them dearly. They are the glue that holds this gal together, and I plan on reminding myself of this every day.
I wonder how many of these I’ll actually accomplish?
Until next week, remember: If you make a bunch of resolutions, the odds that you will actually follow through on at least one increase dramatically.