Please note the date on which I'm posting about New Years Resolutions. I made several this year, one of which was to write more often. No, that's a lie, it was to blog at least twice a week.
On New Years Eve with one too many glasses of champagne in my stomach I blunder somehow to a pen and paper and scribble out my best of intentions for the upcoming year. I picture myself as Lara Croft (looking like Angelina Jolie, of course) adventuring across impossible cliffs, fit and impossibly limber and strong from my increased working out and hiking and running I will do in the new year. I know this amazing appearance will make everything in my life easier, like flitting effortlessly over a solid six foot wall that in the past year has become my nemesis. (Story to follow at later date.) I will also become the next Shakespeare, in the blogging world! People will fall in love with my written brilliance and I will no longer have to work scrambling for shifts and overtime to make ends meet, money will instead be thrown at me as millions of fans shuffle forward at my book signings and meet and greets. This resolution also takes care of the Fix My Career resolution.
I can barely read my resolution paper the next morning, when I make a new one, "I will only drink on weekends or special occasions."
So it is now February, and I do not look like Angelina, my fiance informs me. I'm no more limber than I was after half a bottle of champagne, and I'm considerably LESS funny at this particular point and time, so maybe I'm backsliding on resolutions I didn't even make. (Be more funny!)
I'm suffering blogger's block. I can't for the life of me think of anything pertinent that people are going to want to read about at 5:30 a.m. after being awake all night on a graveyard shift at my job. Do you want to know what low calorie energy drink tastes best? How about what movie previews look intriguing? Probably not. I am terribly uninteresting at 5:30a.m. I'm learning that 5:30 a.m. smells different than almost any other time of the day. Could be that it's frigid cold outside and the scent of the world is dampened by dew, or it could be the wandering souls that are soon to be forced back to their respite come the breaking of dawn, maybe yeah, it's ghost-farts.
I cannot believe I just typed "ghost farts". Maybe my resolution should have been NOT to blog anymore. I'm not funny, I'm not witty, I'm just exhausted. This is what resolutions are really about; setting oneself up for failure. Now at that I am an expert.