Well, here we are. Goodbye, 2008 and hello, 2009! It's me, The Maven! You must be so excited that I'm here!
I've made a few - ahem - "lifestyle adjustments" to my current situation. I refuse to call them resolutions because that sounds like way too much of a commitment. The pressure of even more obligations in 2009 would cause an ugly vein to pop out between my eyes and I certainly don't want that. Could I even cover that with concealer? I think not.
Making "lifestyle adjustments" sounds more manageable, which is good, as I tend to slack in all areas that aren't absolutely essential, such as childcare, going pee, and breathing.
To make myself accountable for my adjustments, here they are, for all to see:
I will adjust my writing schedule and write every day. Yes, write every single day, in my blog and elsewhere. For serious! I need something else to do every day like I need a hole in the head, but blogging a fun way to practice my writing and it also increases my street cred. As I've said before: it's all about street cred, yo. There will be a few exceptions to the rule, including, but not limited to: the threat of vomitting on my new keyboard, alien abduction, the loss of both my arms, and if scientists discover that blogging can cause instantaneous death.
I will adjust my economic intake, as in, I will get paid to write. Not on my blog, obviously, because no one in their right mind would pay for this crap. I intend to get paid by a publication of some sort. Probably one with a drunken editor-in-chief who won't realize I can't put a sentence together to save my life. Inebriated editors are a newbie writer's best friend.
I will make further adjustments to my diet and eat less fat. Sigh. I love fat. I'll have to dismiss my previous belief that all that the fat undoubtedly lining my arteries helps to keep my heart snuggly warm. The new mantra shall be: Salad is now my drug of choice, salad is now my drug of choice, salad...
I'm already crying.
I will adjust my volume level when dealing with the gremlins. I will yell less. This means I'll actually have to parent more which really sucks, but I've heard it might be good for their self-esteem. Who knew I had anything to do with building that? Don't I have enough to do as their mom? Now I have to make them feel good, too? Damn.
I will adjust my behaviour towards other people's actions. I will be less judgmental. Just because someone is making stupid decisions and if they'd only listen to me for once they'd be making better ones and not messing up all the time doesn't mean I have the right to point fingers or anything. Not everyone is as perfect as I am and that's just the world we live in. So I'll be perfect(ly smug) and lead by example. I shine, baby. Others should bask in it.
I will adjust how I use my limited spare time. I already cancelled my World of Warcrack account so I can focus on activities that breathe life into my soul and make me feel good (yes, I've been reading philosphy books lately. Your point?) The Madre made me a basket of art supplies for Christmas. A hint, perhaps? Once upon a time I used to actually be interested in and fairly good at visual arts. Then I got knocked up and all creativity was absorbed by the fetus now known as Intrepid. Twelve years later it's time to rekindle the romance with my former self. I also miss the copious amounts of reading I used to do, the mounds of documentaries I digested, and the guitar I used to know how to strum. So those are things I'll be getting back in touc with as soon as I find that spare time gift certificate.
I will adjust the frequency of my exercise. Pilates? What are those again? I haven't used my exercise balls since dinosaurs roamed the earth. About the only thing I've been doing is walking the dogs nearly every day. The awesomeness that is Nat turned me on to RunningMap.com where I plotted in my almost-daily doggy stroll. As it turns out, I'm walking 1.44 miles every time I do it, which is awesome considering how I'm on my feet and millling about domestically about 80% of my waking life as it is. 1.44 miles is 2.3kms, and if you add that up over a year it's a whopping 837.2kms. Whoa! I'm going to be bitchin' skinny!
... Well, probably not, but I might melt some of the fat off the ol' artery walls, which would make room for more chocolate.
Whatever. Happy New Year!
I've made a few - ahem - "lifestyle adjustments" to my current situation. I refuse to call them resolutions because that sounds like way too much of a commitment. The pressure of even more obligations in 2009 would cause an ugly vein to pop out between my eyes and I certainly don't want that. Could I even cover that with concealer? I think not.
Making "lifestyle adjustments" sounds more manageable, which is good, as I tend to slack in all areas that aren't absolutely essential, such as childcare, going pee, and breathing.
To make myself accountable for my adjustments, here they are, for all to see:
I will adjust my writing schedule and write every day. Yes, write every single day, in my blog and elsewhere. For serious! I need something else to do every day like I need a hole in the head, but blogging a fun way to practice my writing and it also increases my street cred. As I've said before: it's all about street cred, yo. There will be a few exceptions to the rule, including, but not limited to: the threat of vomitting on my new keyboard, alien abduction, the loss of both my arms, and if scientists discover that blogging can cause instantaneous death.
I will adjust my economic intake, as in, I will get paid to write. Not on my blog, obviously, because no one in their right mind would pay for this crap. I intend to get paid by a publication of some sort. Probably one with a drunken editor-in-chief who won't realize I can't put a sentence together to save my life. Inebriated editors are a newbie writer's best friend.
I will make further adjustments to my diet and eat less fat. Sigh. I love fat. I'll have to dismiss my previous belief that all that the fat undoubtedly lining my arteries helps to keep my heart snuggly warm. The new mantra shall be: Salad is now my drug of choice, salad is now my drug of choice, salad...
I'm already crying.
I will adjust my volume level when dealing with the gremlins. I will yell less. This means I'll actually have to parent more which really sucks, but I've heard it might be good for their self-esteem. Who knew I had anything to do with building that? Don't I have enough to do as their mom? Now I have to make them feel good, too? Damn.
I will adjust my behaviour towards other people's actions. I will be less judgmental. Just because someone is making stupid decisions and if they'd only listen to me for once they'd be making better ones and not messing up all the time doesn't mean I have the right to point fingers or anything. Not everyone is as perfect as I am and that's just the world we live in. So I'll be perfect(ly smug) and lead by example. I shine, baby. Others should bask in it.
I will adjust how I use my limited spare time. I already cancelled my World of Warcrack account so I can focus on activities that breathe life into my soul and make me feel good (yes, I've been reading philosphy books lately. Your point?) The Madre made me a basket of art supplies for Christmas. A hint, perhaps? Once upon a time I used to actually be interested in and fairly good at visual arts. Then I got knocked up and all creativity was absorbed by the fetus now known as Intrepid. Twelve years later it's time to rekindle the romance with my former self. I also miss the copious amounts of reading I used to do, the mounds of documentaries I digested, and the guitar I used to know how to strum. So those are things I'll be getting back in touc with as soon as I find that spare time gift certificate.
I will adjust the frequency of my exercise. Pilates? What are those again? I haven't used my exercise balls since dinosaurs roamed the earth. About the only thing I've been doing is walking the dogs nearly every day. The awesomeness that is Nat turned me on to RunningMap.com where I plotted in my almost-daily doggy stroll. As it turns out, I'm walking 1.44 miles every time I do it, which is awesome considering how I'm on my feet and millling about domestically about 80% of my waking life as it is. 1.44 miles is 2.3kms, and if you add that up over a year it's a whopping 837.2kms. Whoa! I'm going to be bitchin' skinny!
... Well, probably not, but I might melt some of the fat off the ol' artery walls, which would make room for more chocolate.
Whatever. Happy New Year!