I have high hopes for 2013.
First on the agenda is to see the second half of Les Miserables. There pre-ordered tickets, masses of popcorn, and in-my-head singing in my future. All was lovely in the world. Until it wasn’t. The stomach gnomes attacked and I took out the first line of defense—Gravol, Zantac, Tums, Tic Tacs, water. I assumed my normal stomach remedies would work. I made it through the wait for the movie to start, I made it through the previews (The Great Gatsby, OH MY!), I made it all the way through Fantine’s death (spoiler alert!) and then I had to finally give in. “Take me home,” I whispered to my husband, who suddenly wished he hadn’t chauffeured me on this particular evening. I gave in, got into bed, and haven’t gotten out of it since Saturday evening. At this rate I’ll be ringing in the New Year toasting with toast instead of champagne.
2013 will be the year that I finally change my passwords to something that doesn’t require a cheat sheet glued to my computer monitor.
And it will be the year that I find some cardio that I love. Zumba, maybe? Step? Maybe I’ll take another stab at running, for the 63rd time. Who knows?!?
And it will be the year that I finally get a handle on the laundry situation. It will be done in a timely fashion, it will not end up in clean piles all over the floor in my bedroom and hot damn I will stop shrinking everything, even though Emily’s wardrobe seems to not be complaining at all.
This year I will get a kitchen table and chairs that I don’t despise.
This will be the year that I unscubscribe from all of the crap e-mails that I get several times daily. Looking at you Old Navy. And LivingSocial. And zulily.
In 2013, I won’t let the gas tank get down to less than empty.
I will call my three mothers more. And my sister. And my sisters-in-law.
Media Kit. I will make one this year.
This year will be the year of the blunt bangs, even though, well, this.
What about you? Do you make resolutions? Think they are lame? Think they are too lofty?