resolutions

We’re all three weeks into our new lives. How’s it going?

The jury’s still out here.

I actually didn’t make any resolutions. Not really. Well, ok, fine, maybe a few, but nothing life shattering. I read something recently, and while I can’t remember whose quote it was (I think Anaїs Nin), and can’t remember her exact words either, what she essentially said was that every day she wakes up, she plans and critiques her own life. Like Groundhog Day, only it’s New Year’s Day every single day.

That’s so me; every day an assessment of the day before, and a hope that the new day will be better.

Not that I don’t have goals. I have plenty.  This year and from this year forward, I’ve a goal to read a book a month. I’m a total book addict; as of right this minute, I have exactly 214 unread books in this house. Worse, I’m dying to go to the bookstore and buy three or four more that are on my list (Barnes & Noble, I miss you so much).  So, if I read one a month…OK, either I better live a good long time, or learn to read faster. Or resign myself to letting them be merely part of the décor, which they are, of course, rather than here for edification, amusement, enlightenment, or something to kill boredom when the electricity goes out.

I suppose there’s more:

-          Use the good dishes. What the hell am I saving them for?

-          Get email under control.

-          Cook something different, instead of the same old crap. Assuming, after last December’s cooking blitz, that I’ll ever want to cook again.

-          No more muttering out loud while roaming the grocery store aisles. At least not if someone else is in the same row.

-          Develop a tolerance for stupid (nothing like setting myself up for failure).

-          Stop eating every meal at my desk in front of the computer. Though it’s true, I’ve gotten used to ingesting fur.

-          Floss.

-          Be nice to my ex’s. Tough to do, but they can’t help themselves. There’s seemingly no cure for egos run amok or WDS. [Hint to Mr. Uniform – Linked In is not Facebook or a dating site, and certainly not the place to register all those notches in your bedpost (which I assume, in real life, looks like it was attacked by termites).]

Off I go to knock the dust off the treadmill (yep, that’s on the list, too)….let’s see how we all do, a month from now….