I doubt you have time to read them all.

New Year! New Me?

Not likely.

After 54 new beginnings, I’ll never change. I’ll never mature. Would a mature woman watch South Park every night and impersonate Eric Cartman?” No, kitty! My pot pie!”

A woman of my age with my income is supposed to wear polyester pantsuits – the more stretchy the better. I may have a fat ass, but I wear faded jeans with holes in them. Mature women wear functional bras. I rip my bra off in the parking lot after work and would gladly strangle any customer with it who approaches me when I’m off the clock.

A mature woman wouldn’t do what I did today. A co-worker from Pennsylvania informed me that the tradition in her home is to serve sauerkraut and pork on the first day of the year. I suggested sauerkraut tasted like cabbage boiled in cat urine, and then stuffed up the ass of a week-long dead body, which is then eaten by a starving dog, who eventually shits it out, apparently onto a plate at her house. She suggested the Southern tradition of eating black-eyed peas is gross.

So, it’s another new year and time to make and break resolutions. I have only one resolution this year, but it’s my own personal Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.

Let it go!

That’s my resolution. But if I have to let go of all the anger – all the grudges – all the resentment – all the anxiety – all the fear – all the revenge schemes…where is it going to go?

#1 – I better go for that two-mile walk if I don’t want my head to explode like some shit in every other scene of a John Woo film.

#2 – That walk actually energized me and now I feel like lifting some weights and maybe even doing some crunches.

#3 – Well, hell. After all that working out, my faded old jeans don’t fit anymore, but I can’t even get in the spare room where all my smaller jeans are stored in boxes. It’s time to finally organize that damn mess.

#4 – Would you look at this room? I can see the floor for the first time in years! My books are neatly stocked on the shelves of a bookcase. It’s time to get back to reading.

#5 – That book sucked! I could write something that dreadful.

#6 – I’d wish all of you a Happy New Year, but I’m busy writing.

Nope.  Never happened.  I wrote this ten years ago.