I Was Feeling Left Out

Well, just everybody I read and love is coming up with all these resolutions. I fought the urge to be all sheeplike, but as my middle name is "Fleecy", I guess it was just a matter of time. The thing is, I'm just not a resolutions gal. Nothing against them, I just feel like a failure enough without asking for additional confirmation.

So, here goes. Resolutions I can live with:

1. Eat lots of food that is bad for me.
2. Drink lovely wine, beer, and spirits when the fancy takes me.
3. Drink plenty of coffee and tea.
4. Realize I should drink more of that dull, tasteless watery water stuff but fail to do so.
5. Sit with a foot or two on the dash when in the passenger's seat of the car.
6. Fart and burp.
7. Dress with dull and comfortable abandon.
8. Mock anything I think deserves mocking.
9. Blog about anything that deserves mocking that would not hurt someone I love or get me fired. (Actually, with those conditions, it is hard to find material, sometimes.)
10. Kiss my kids and pets with annoying frequency. Charles is also kissed frequently but doesn't seem at all annoyed. Good man.
11. Shamelessly pander for back and neck rubs from poor Charles.
12. Grouse about all the mess in the house, yet not ask for help.
13. Listen to more music.
14. Buy a fuckload of plants for the yard, plant them, and then buy more.
15. Continue the War of the Thistles
16. Same for the War on Garden Bugs Who Try To Decimate The Plants I Have Slaved Over In Their Own Selfish Interest Of Feeding And Procreating.
17. Continue to lose ground in above wars.
18. Tell you all about it in excruciating detail, as though you had any interest in the hobby garden of a Midwestern middle-aged woman with poor fashion sense and short nails.
19. Make inappropriate comments but only partly regret them.
20. Read as much as possible.
21. Spend too much time reading blogs, but not as much as I could spend.
22. Nap. With a quilt. And a purring cat. A lot.
23. Feel that I should be doing more with my career and training than being a Doc-in-a-box in a stripmall, but then remember how much I dislike camping, let alone living in places of tents and latrine trenches and still feel guilty but realize that for me, running off to a truly high-need place is not what I am cut out for, so do what I can where I am at present. What a cop-out.
24. Swear too much.
25. Laugh loudly.
26. Hate meetings and when forced to partake in them, entertain myself with more inappropriate thoughts involving Those Who Mandated Said Meetings, the evil bastards. Death's too good for them. Why the hell did they think I went into medicine, I ask you?
27. Fall more in friend-love with you, my blog friends.
28. Be insanely proud of the smallest accomplishments of my amazing offspring.
29. Be petty.
30. Hate my hair.
31. Be horribly bored with my clothes but do nothing about it.
32. Wear almost nothing but jeans when not at work, jean-shorts in the summer.
33. Wish I could just wear jeans to work and be done with it.
34. Nitpick horribly. It truly is amazing Charles has not offed me and hidden the body. The man is a fucking saint, I tell you. Well, he would be if he just loaded the dishwasher correctly and didn't leave his socks all over the house, all balled up.
35. Basically live as I have for the past several years and mostly like it.

So there.

Bah. Baaaaaaaah.