Sunday, January 2, 2011

Resolving to Fail.


It's a New Year, and a new you! And as usual, the past few days have made me extremely nervous. Everyone wants to know my resolutions and on top of that, I'm starting to have gym angst. Not because I have to start going to the gym but because of all the jerks who are going to start going to the gym. People like me, who refuse to do anything after work until they've worked out have to suffer and have crap workouts while the New Year's Resolutions get in a decent workout. It happens the same way every year. The Monday after New Year's, the gym is FLOODED with people taking over my treadmills and barely missing my head as they fling their weights around. They work out hard (like Jessica Simpson did for the Dukes of Hazard and then never again) for 1 month and then they disappear. Just like a poof, they are gone. February is the most fabulous time of year because the gym.is.empty. But until then, I have to suffer serious gym angst.

My kid sister was no doubt talking about me when she wrote: "you can't improve perfection." It's a good thing to, because if I could be improved, I'd be starting 2011 out with a giant F for failure. For starters, Mondays are my weekly start a new diet day. Every Monday, I announce to my cube mates my new diet, and every Monday by about 3pm, I get chastised because my afternoon snack is typically not on my diet. So, about 1 month ago, I resolved to give up bread, pasta, rice, sodas, fast foot and spirits. I refuse to give up dessert. It's my favorite part of every meal! This was a splendid diet to begin before the holidays. I failed. So I resolved to start it again. Except this weekend I had a headache, so I went to McDonalds for a burger, fries and a soda. Apparently an Excedrin Migraine was out of the question. So I decided to start it on Monday (with all the other jerks starting their resolutions). Only then I got a reminder email that my free Chick-Fil-A biscuit (I'm trusting, dear Chick, that a new year means a new you and we won't keep fighting) is available for pickup tomorrow between 7:30a-8:30a. And THEN I found a note I had written myself that Thursday at McDonalds is buy 1 item, get a second for 1 penny. It's only certain items but they really are some of my favorites. So that means I have to eat fast food twice this week.

I contemplated giving up my love affair with reality tv. I already don't have cable, so it keeps me pretty limited, but I have friends who have cable. This will come in handy since I'm going to become extremely lazy in January until I can get my treadmill back. Turns out The Bachelor starts back up tomorrow. After last season, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. Only because I like to be abused, I knew secretly I would be watching it. Then I found out it was that deuche bag Brad the Bartender again and I swore I wouldn't watch it. Except tonight, my friends brought up where we'd be watching it this season, and I knew I would be failing at this resolution too.

I told someone I was going to be more patient this year. But I'm already so annoyed about the gym that I'm going to go ahead and call that one like I see it and say I'm a failure. I resolved to be rich this year, but then I realized that unless I start really taking all those cat calls as compliments, being rich probably isn't going to happen. Maybe I'll make good on my promise to marry an old rich guy and inherit his gold. The only problem is, most old guys who are still kickin' it enough to get married probably are still kickin' it enough to at least try to do other things, and that really just doesn't appeal to me. So, scratch that.

I suppose I should resolve to have better self esteem. Starting the new year out as the failure I apparently am is starting to take its toll on me, and it's only day 3 of this brand spankin new year. I've got 362 more days to get my act together. It's going to be a long year. I can feel it. Especially since I might need something spirited to help me deal with the gym tomorrow (I kid mom, I kid).

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