I vacillate every year about my feeling on resolutions. One year it’s “I resolve to never make another resolution,” the next I make a long list. This year, I’m going to make one because I need feel my life is in order.
I am such a downer lately. I’m still digesting the news that my days are numbered. I never called the new psych. I’m back on Effexor XR 150, hoping it will dampen the panic attacks that have ramped up. I don’t want to make New Year’s Resolutions. I am going call them goals to make myself think that they’re not such a big deal.
Lose 20 pounds
Improve my housekeeping routine
Write a bucket list
Take my family to Disneyland
Keep up on this blog 3-5 times per week
Have my secret blog project go public by summer
What are your goals?
P.S. Check out Mindbloom, it’s a goal tracking website. I think of it as the flylady of personal goals.
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I really hope that when Mike comes home tomorrow night he will be so happy to be home he won’t notice this as he walks in the door:
Bear is sabotaging my every step. That is a pile of books she keeps pulling off the shelf. they are Fluffy’s books. I would put them away, far far away from my four year-old tornado but can’t cut off my budding reader’s access to literature. I feel like a frat mom in an 80s movie. the kid is constantly turning over chairs and climbing on tables.
Just look at what they have done to my kitchen!
Nah, I can’t pass that off on them, it is all me. I haven’t had a chance to get the dish washer loaded or anything else. Honey, if you’re reading this, I demand a housekeeper next time you leave. I can’t take this cleaning-the-whole-house shit.
This is the part where I am supposed to say something like “Now I am off to clean this pig sty” but I can’t. I have homework to do then I have to go get treats for Bear’s class party, then take her to a Neurology check-up, take her to school, socialize with the parents, go to Fluffy’s school, schmooze there and help clean-up after her class party, then come home and get my work done.
All of tha totally justifies my lack of cleaning and my raging Starbucks addiction.
We are so different it’s a wonder how we stay married. When I wake up at three a.m., I am pissed. Hell, lately I can’t even get up at 6:30 a.m. to get Fluffy ready for school. She has an alarm in her room. Once I hear up and moving. I shout directions until I can peel my fat ass out of bed. the average time over the past two weeks is 7:45, just in time to get her to the bus.
He, on the other hand, is up with the birds, cleaning the kitchen. He can come home from work and fold laundry. It’s takes an act of Congress to get me to fold clothes. You could say we prove that opposites attract.
You wanna know the real punchline: He was not at home, he was cleaning his apartment in San Diego. Yeah, his apartment got a before dawn scrubdown. Not my house. Poo.
Ha ha, it’s all in the dark. You can’t see my messy floor. Notice how I am behind the camera. I don’t like to be filmed. For the record, the kitchen is clean.
I now have a laptop (thanks, Norma Jean!), love it.
Fluffy is now six. I feel eighty.
When we were in line at Safeway, I flipped through this week’s issue of People to find Donna. She looks great. Maybe I’ll give Wii Fit another try. I felt the need to look cool to the mom and son in line behind me so I sad to Fluffy “look, its Donna. I know her.” ( we all now reading a persons’ blog and replying on Twitter counts as personal acquaintance) She gave me the “what am I looking at?” face. I told her “she lost weight playing Wii Fit.” Then she replies “Oh, so she used to be fat and she got skinny playing Wii? huh.” At least the family behind me looked impressed.
Bear loves bagels. She won’t eat them until they are broken in half. She sets one half down while she eats the other. I keep finding half bagels in the dogs’ pens.
I have been trying to reply to your comments via email. For some dumb reason I set this plan into motion the week of my Build-A-Bear giveaway. 300 plus “Thanks for visiting Life On the Run” messages gets old fast.
I put up fly and yellow jacket traps. The yellow jacket trap had claimed victims within 10 minutes. The fly one just makes my house smell like nasty sweaty gym locker underpants.
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I know you can’t wait to see what my finger looks like today. Click here, kidding.
