I don't normally write these things down - that way, a year later, I don't have this annoying printed reminder of my procrastination and failure - but I've decided to write them this year. Like it or not, it'll be here a year later, and I'll have to answer for what I've done. Or haven't done, as the case may (probably) be.
One year, I sat down and wrote some musical goals in a notebook, with time lines and due dates, and then didn't look at it for about eight months. When I finally opened it up and blew off the dust I felt disappointed and somewhat humiliated, even though I hadn't showed it to anyone, hadn't told anybody about what I had written. I hadn't met a single goal, I hadn't achieved anything. This was several years ago, and I still probably hadn't met many of these goals, although I could probably scratch off one or two. Of course, I don't really know, because I tore the damn thing out and threw it away. A year from now, I may be deleting this blog post. Blog post? What blog post?
I did quit smoking several (three?) years ago, and so far, this one has stuck. Of course, I had started in October, so I was well on my way by New Year's Day, and I had the help of expensive nicotine patches and even-more-expensive pharmaceutical drugs that re-wire those areas of the brain that receive pleasure from smoking. I have nearly forgotten what it was like to smoke, and I don't really miss it.
So, let the humiliation begin:
1. I'm involved in two book reading/personal growth projects that are designed to a.) improve my marriage and b.) my relationship with God. These projects require
journaling. I hate journaling. I don't do journaling. I hate the word "journaling." Shit, it's not even a word, it's a made-up word, and I hate it when people make up bogus words, especially when they turn a noun into a verb by adding a gerund: Verbalizing. Any kind of journal writing I've ever attempted ended up being this narcissistic, incoherent, pensive, maudlin ranting and raving; the sort of thing that suicidal 15-year-old girls like to write when their boyfriends break up with them because they're not putting out. Anyway, I've kind of gotten off track. This coming year, I resolve to
keep a journal, which will, hopefully,
improve my marriage and
my relationship with God.
2. I'm a
fatass. Or rather, I've become a fatass. Mostly because I quit smoking (see above), and I like to eat. I eat more now because I don't smoke, and I enjoy it more, because I don't smoke and actually now have working taste buds. But one cannot eat well and be sedentary, unless one wants to be a fatass. Before quitting smoking, I was already about 10 pounds over. I've gained another 30, so I've got about 40 to lose. I've already started a regular exercise routine, therefore, this coming year, I resolve to
exercise regularly, and hopefully,
lose the extra 40 pounds. I've lost about 3 so far.
3. We're in debt, which we've been working on now for a little over a year. We've cut out about one-third, with two-thirds left to go. This resolution is a carry-over from last year, which is, to wit: this coming year, I resolve
to further reduce, and hopefully eliminate, our debt.
Getting a better job is, naturally, part of this resolution. The old job is now gone, a casualty of the economic crisis.
4. Lastly, there's my somewhat inconsistent pursuit of the Arts, with a capital "A". I'm not a good artist, mostly because I don't draw regularly. I'm not a very good photographer, because I don't regularly shoot pictures. I'm a mediocre writer, because I don't write regularly. I play music most often, but don't practice regularly. See the pattern? See the problem? I enjoy all these things, but largely suck at them, not for lack of talent (which is largely meaningless), but for lack of devotion. Mostly, I just get overwhelmed with the whole idea, and watch T.V. instead, and live in a fantasy world. I got a wild hair in September when I heard about the
National Novel Writing Month, which is held in November. But by November I had talked myself out of participating, and deleted all blog posts and links, pretending it never existed. I started playing music this year in public, but now I should be writing songs, perfecting my craft. I ain't doin' shit. Therefore, this coming year, I resolve to
turn off the evil television, and pick up a sketch pad, camera, guitar, or writing instrument instead. Maybe I'll even do the NaNoWriMo.
There are some other, minor long-term goals which we started last year or the year before that we're still working on, and will hopefully improve on this coming year -
improving our yield from the chickens, better gardening, better animal and land management, increased recycling efforts, increased energy management efforts - with the eventual goal of
reducing our dependence on store-bought food, grid electricity, and the meddlesome outside world. We'll see.
