…ah! New Year’s Resolution: drink less… and quit smoking… and quit talking nonsense to total strangers… hehe… ahh…
Yes. Well. Perhaps it’s time to eat.
Y’all know I love Bridget Jones. In fact, my darling muse Bridgie was named in her honor. I see a lot of myself in my younger days in Bridget — especially the unfortunate attempts at karaoke, the inability to filter my thoughts before they leave my mouth, and the eternally ill-fated attempts at self-improvement. (The relationship with Mr. Darcy/Colin Firth — unfortunately, not so much.)
Like Ms. Jones, I love to make a New Year’s Resolution. Or several. Every late December finds me weighing the desirability of various goals. Weight loss. Clean eating. Less wine. Strict writing goals. Organization. Oh, Lord, I have dozens of things I want to get started on.
Problem is, like Bridget, I’m a lot better at getting started than I am at succeeding. I have to admit that, barring illness, the odds are slight that I’ll be zipping up size 4 jeans this year. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak, especially after a 12-hour stint at the dayjob, when chips and bean dip seem to be my very best friend in the world.
But I will brag on myself and my history with resolutions just a bit. A couple of years ago, I decided that I would write a book. And by God, I did it. And after that, I decided that I would continue to write, with a daily goal of a pre-determined word count. And I have done that, too, at least 80% of the time.
So I’ve figured out that I can keep a resolution. But it has to be something very concrete and measurable, with a tangible end result. And, so far at least, it has to be something other than getting skinny. But I’ll take whatever successes I can.
In that spirit, I make the following resolutions for 2013:
1. Write my quota daily.
2. Blog no less than three times per week.
3. Finish my two current WIPS.
That’s it. I think — heck, I know — I can do this. I’ll report in occasionally to let y’all know how it’s going. And well, perhaps it’s time to eat.