It’s that time of year, when people look at the bright shiny new year and think “I must do something to improve myself”. This is not, in and of itself, a bad thing, but if you’re anything like me, it’s also the time when you make all these nice, shiny promises to yourself, knowing full well that you’re going to wind up breaking them as the year winds on.
It’s human nature to want to commemorate something new with some kind of improvement to their lives. Sadly, the power of habit usually wins – especially with me. I freely admit to being lazy (as I tell my co-workers, I want to do it once, right). I also admit that what passes for my mind has gone awol, and wherever the bloody thing is hiding it’s not doing any of the work I need it to do.
So, I’m not going to actually do any resolutions, as such. I’m going to try to do certain things. Like try to reduce the beached whale effect to something that’s less than 200lb. Ultimately, I should be somewhere around 175, but since it’s not that long since I saw under 220 for the first time in ages, I’m keeping it slow. That way I’m making new habits, not trying to break old ones (I’m a comfort eater, and a boredom eater. If I’m not completely involved in whatever I’m doing I’ll nibble non-stop, which can be bad because my body does not give proper “hungry” or “full” signals).
And try to write. This could be interesting if the alleged mind remains lost in whatever tropical paradise (I’m sure it’s enjoying the drinks with the little umbrellas. Bastard doesn’t even send postcards), but I need to push this or I’m going to feel even more like a fraud than I already do.
Try to convince Midnight, our very own basement cat with all the ebulz that entails, that it’s quite safe when the hoomins have one hand on either side. If I keep at it, I may even get to where he allows me to pick him up. He’s a purrer and a snuggler, but he does not do cuddles. Or being picked up.
I’m at the point where two hands are accepted without attempts to kill or flee (or both), but it’s slow going.
Try not to stress out to where I’m useless. Which is a big one for me – right now a stressful workday is enough that I’m wiped for the evening, and work is not going to stop being stressful for the sake of my energy levels.
I’m half tempted to add try to win the damn lottery if only so I can think about early retirement, but I know better. I won’t argue of something like that happens, but the chance of it is somewhere south of zero – and that’s with buying tickets.
Here’s to a good year and goals achieved, however large or small they may be.