Bejewell on January 6th, 2010
New Year’s Resolutions, 2010:
- I resolve to lose my keys or glasses or some other item essential to my daily life at least twice a week, and then embark on a mad search through the house while uttering vile curse words under my breath but just loud enough that the impressionable child who likes to repeat everything will be sure to hear them.
- I resolve to later find said object(s) either in the door, on my head, or in some other painfully obvious place, which will then unleash a second round of under-the-breath-but-still-too-loud cursing.
- I resolve to feel terribly guilty when the Bean repeats, in mixed company, the curse words he heard when I was searching for/finding my goddamnedbitchassmotherfuckingshitty keys/glasses/important-life-related-object.
- I resolve to whine about a lot of stuff.
- I resolve to walk around with a letter, check or other item that I’m supposed to mail to someone but can’t because I don’t have a stamp and keep forgetting to buy one, only to find it a few weeks later at the bottom of my purse and throw it away, defeated — five times or more this year.
- I resolve to spend way too much money on really terrible Amazon e-books.
- I resolve to forget the name of every single new person I meet this year, knowing them instead by the names I assign them in my head, such as ”Eyebrows,” “Pornstache,” “Way Too Happy to Not Be High Guy” and “MakeMeWannaYawnaYvonna.”
- I resolve to forget the birthdays of at least three people who matter and then try desperately to make it up to them by spending way too much on belated gifts and overnight shipping.
- I resolve to ignore the fact that I have to pee until I absolutely can’t hold it anymore, then race to the bathroom and *almost* wet my pants – at least once a week.
- I resolve to eat my weight in cake during my birthday month.
- I resolve to fly backwards off the treadmill at least two more times this year.
- I resolve to make it through the entire year without winning a single award for anything.
- I resolve to deeply resent anyone I know who does win an award, asking myself regularly what they have that I don’t.
- I resolve to find a new kind of food that I really like, then eat it every day for several weeks until I find it completely disgusting, and never eat it again.
- I resolve to totally screw up the alignment of this list.
- I resolve to kill at least four plants through sheer neglect.
- I resolve to procrastinate everything, including posting this New Years’ Resolution list three days after New Years.
- I resolve to post at least 50 totally annoying and assholish status updates on Facebook, motivating at least 30 people to hide my updates or unfriend me altogether.
- During football season, I resolve to interrupt my husband’s enjoyment of the game by asking him to explain the rules to me, again, even though he’s given me the same answer to the same question at least 20 times and we both know I don’t care enough to retain the information this time, either.
- I resolve to finish a whole bunch of sentences with prepositions.
- I resolve to get hopelessly lost in my own hometown, forced to call my husband for directions and thus endure his incredulous “Seriously? You’re lost AGAIN? But YOU GREW UP HERE,” at least once a month.
- I resolve to trip or fall down in a public setting at least seven times (at least two of which will involve the explosion of my purse and random dispursion of its contents, especially tampons).
- I resolve to feel old, ugly and inadequate every time I walk past an American Eagle store.
- I resolve to cringe and cry every time someone posts another photo of me looking like a chinless goose-man on Facebook.
- I resolve to laugh and snicker at unflattering photos and profiles of other people on Facebook, once again begging Karma to smack me around like its bitch.
- I resolve to watch obscene amounts of television at unreasonable hours.
- I resolve to ask at least 143 really, really stupid questions.
- I resolve to be unbearably obnoxious about how amazingly smart/funny/awesome my kid is, regardless of how much the person or people I’m talking to might care.
(see? totally justified)