Before I lay out this year’s resolutions, let me see how I did on last years!
- Lose weight: I did great for a while, but now I am heavier than I was this time last year. Been back on Weight Watchers for 2 days now. Wish me luck. It worked before.
- Blog more regularly. Well, we know I didn’t do that, dammit.
- I did not take more bubble baths.
- I did not clean out the crap under the deck.
- I do think I was in more pictures, but not enough. I really suck at selfies, and no one in my family likes picture taking. We even asked friends to take our family pic at Christmas and failed to get it done. Ugh.
- I DID attend an event at First Avenue if not a concert. I’m gonna call this one a win!
- I used some of the gift cards we collected from auctions, but not all.
- I partially cleaned out the weird plastic junk bin.
- I did NOT tackle the scary mass of electrical cables.
- I did fight less with Singer Girl.
- I did NOT frame and hang the old family photos.
So. This year:
See above. Do that.
- Print, frame and hang vacation pictures on our dining room wall.
- Purge and organize the attic (this one is tough, as I have to do it in either spring or fall so I don’t melt or freeze).
- Stop talking to HWSNBN through the dog.
- Purge and organize under the basement stairs.
- Take a trip with my mom.
- Create an address label database for my Christmas cards.
I think what I need to do is check in monthly on this, to keep myself accountable. I now have about 15 things on my list. That’s more than one per month.
Wish me luck.
New Year’s Day. For some, it’s a day to rest or maybe recover. Last night we knew we weren’t feeling a big to-do, so instead dined out with the dearest of friends, then did pjs and TV. About 11:40pm, attempted to watch ball drop but forgot we are in the wrong time zone. Yawned. Explained to dogs the concept of fireworks: Abby, the foster, wanted to bark them into submission. Stevie Nicks, the resident, stared frantically at weird corners of the house, searching for ghosts. Applied a little calming oils to them, turned off the lights and prayed for the best.
A restless night, an early morning sub-zero potty break and a 5am nap on the couch and I was ready to face the new year.
So what does that mean? Resolutions are traditional. I like traditions — but I also like to shake things up. I also love a good to-do list. So, for the past few weeks I have been taking notes on things I both want and need to accomplish. Some are new, some are embarrassingly old. Some require dedication and a lengthy commitment, some can frankly be a one and done. Some are tangible, some are spiritual. All are worthy in their own right — to me.
I figure if I put this out in the universe, I will feel held accountable. I will try to update every month here (see resolution #2) for my sake, and perhaps your curiosity (I am perhaps flattering myself to thank that anyone else cares about this crap. But I digress.)
- I’ll start with the one that everyone has: lose weight (one pound per week before our vaca to Jamaica in April). I’ve already posted a reminder in the kitchen:
- Blog more regularly! And if I don’t have anything to say, I best get out there and create some interesting stories!
- Take more bubble baths.
- Clean out this garbage collecting under the deck:
- Be in more pictures, not just be the one taking them.
- Attend a show at First Avenue (can’t believe I have never done this! http://first-avenue.com/)
- Use all the gift cards we’ve bought at auctions (there are soooo many)
- Clean out this weird box in which I have been piling crap since 2017. Almost afraid to see what’s in there.
- Make progress on my genealogy search, and plan a trip to get more info.
- Organize and purge this collection of cords.
- Fight less with Singer Girl
- Frame and hang all the old family photos from his side and mine.
I think that’s enough for now. Twelve months, 12 resolutions on my to do list. Ill keep you posted.
How about you? What do you need to FINALLY get done???
A lifetime ago, I was quite the shopper. Now I avoid buying stuff for myself, as I hate the way I look in clothes. I have put off shopping “until I lose some weight” for about a decade — except for special occasions and events. It takes a lot of time to find something that doesn’t want me to weep, and frankly I just don’t want to devote days on end to the torture. Every time I do I remind myself I should be on the treadmill, not the mall escalator (which, you may recall, I deeply fear, so yeah to THAT double torture).
But we are going on a super romantic, bucket list trip to Paris in April, and I need to get started. So I am focusing on things that won’t matter if I don’t shed the recommended 50 pounds by April. Got a chic raincoat (thanks, mom, for helping me there!), and a highly rated umbrella (not sexy, but necessary). Last week I turned to a combo of fashion and function: shoes!
I have crappy feet, but ADORE heels. I have had my big toe joints surgically rebuilt on both feet, and my doctor frowns on my unhealthy attraction to pointy toed 4 inch stilettos. Sadly, with the surgeries and weight gain, my feet aren’t real happy with me either. But I refuse to wear orthopedic shoes on the Champs Elysees.
So I hit the internet, searching for suggestions on shoes that will let me comfortably walk the hills of Sacre Coeur without people thinking I’m an escaped nun. Found tons of suggestions, and hit Zappos. I am a proficient internet shopper, and have no problem massively over-ordering then returning. I know that 85% of the shoes I chose will hurt my feet. So I bought A LOT.
I also am home during the day when my husband is not and I tend to track packages. I am not exactly hiding the purchases from him because, as I said, it’s almost all going back. So don’t think I’m an evil-sneaky devil woman, or that he is some purse-strings controlling neanderthal. But he finds my methods madness, and it’s best to shield him from some things, like the cost of my hair color or his children’s dating questions.
Back to the shoes.
My boxes were supposed to arrive today. They did. But not at our current home; instead, they arrived at our old address. How do I know this? Because one of my husband’s co-workers bought our old house, and sent him an email, including this note: “One of the boxes is pretty large so didn’t want (Donni) to worry they were lost.”
I think I will be in trouble. Not just, “it’s more than one box,” or “the box was big.” No: ONE of the boxes was pretty large.” So no hiding that — the guy is gonna bring them TO THE OFFICE tomorrow. HWSNBN is going to have them at his desk all freaking day. He is going to be tripping over them, explaining to co-workers that his wife has a shopping problem.
I am screwed.