Last year around this time I made some "resolutions" that I prefer to refer to as goals. Because goals is just nicer. Also? Resolutions imply that I might HAVE to do all this crap, and frankly, I don't. I just maybe kinda of want to, unless there is something good on t.v.
But I hadn't thought about them in a very long time, so I decided I would revisit it so we could all get a good laugh at me for even trying.
1) I want to be a better wife.
Okay, I'm giving myself a pass on this one. I'm a good wife.
I am really, really, REALLY not a perfect wife. And I think most people in my life, except a few who are very close to me, would be surprised to know that my marriage was in real trouble earlier this year. Real, real, really bad trouble. I was really scared at one point that we wouldn't make it. Things were just going really badly for us and there was a lot of anger on both sides.
But we stuck it out. We worked it out and our marriage is fan-freaking-tastic.
So I just kind of think, in the immortal words of Nick Lachey, "There are going to be bad moments. But when you are in it for fifty-five years, are you going to look back on one or two shit years? Or eight shit years? What about the other forty-seven?"
That Nick. He is so wise.
2) I want to work on my forgiveness skills.
No. No. I still suck at this.
3) Finish my novel.
Another for the land-o-suck.
To be fair to me, losing my hard drive earlier this year really screwed me. To be even more fair, I suck at writing novels, and that's my main problem.
4) Stop working so many jobs.
I've gotten fairly good at saying, "Screw you guys, I'm going home" but I could be much better.
Also, I've GOT TO STOP VOLUNTEERING SO MUCH. I mean, I believe the children are our future or whatever the crap, but still. Good Lord. Somebody else is going to have to help me out.
5) Walk five hundred miles.
So overall, I both suck and blow.
I've thought long and hard about my goals for next year and have been conflicted. I still want to be a better wife, because even though I think I'm a good wife, I could be better. I want to have an attitude of forgiveness, but frankly, that would be a lot easier if people weren't such peeholes all the time. I'd love to finish my novel, but really? I'm not good at novel writing. I have the attention span of a smashed gnat caught in the fur of an epileptic cat. I'd love to get another job and stop working so much. Believe me, I'm trying. I'm TRYING. And walking five hundred miles isn't as much of a goal as just being healthier and getting some kind of regular exercise.
So I don't know.
The only thing I know, for sure, that I want to publicly put out as a goal:
I want to publish something.
I don't care if it's a letter to the editor. I don't care if it's a corn report in the Amish times. I don't care if it's a tiny piece for our community rag (seven of it's ten pages? Local high school football). I want to see my stupid name in print.
So that will be my goal. I guess.
And I fail at that? Well, I don't want to think about it.