Deb Sarah Promises to Try…
Dear Diary,
Here are my resolutions for 2010:
1) Will simply ASK acquaintances to tell me their names once again instead of pretending to remember and spending the rest of the (wedding, reunion, party, etc) paralyzed with fear that someone will come up to us and require an introduction, revealing me to be the cowardly lying fraud that I really am.
2) Will never again passively-aggressively torture my nemesis (Hyper-Competitive Mother) if I spot her meditating in her parked car while waiting for our kids’ school to let out. Will not park my minivan next to hers, walk a hundred yards away, and repeatedly activate the locking mechanism on my keychain, causing my minivan to honk loudly. Feel very guilty for having done this.
3) Will no longer pretend to feel very guilty about torturing Hyper-Competitive Mother. She deserves every stinking moment of it.
4) Will not merely put on exercise clothes in the morning in an effort to “ease into” working out in the hopes that the next step will be driving to the gym and one day actually setting foot inside. Fitness is not like a small squirrely animal that needs to be snuck up upon with a net. Must embrace it whole-heartedly, as one would a long-lost friend whose name one cannot remember.
5) Must stop putting healthy, organic fruits and vegetables into my son’s lunch box in an effort to impress the teachers. He wants Go-gurt and granola bars with chocolate chips. And, frankly, so do I.
6) Must finally come clean to my husband for “accidentally” tripping and gently kicking him in his sore foot. The fact that I’d recently endured natural childbirth and he was incessantly whining about a twisted ankle is no excuse for violence. Though his high-pitched, girly squeal WAS quite satisfying.
7) Must groom self more thoroughly in the morning, instead of putting on sunglasses and pulling up the hood of my sweatshirt, in what my husband calls my “Unibomber” look because it so closely resembles the FBI sketch. Come to think of it, ankle kick also justified.
Stop kidding myself and just eat the freaking chocolate. We all know it’s going to happen – why delay the inevitable?
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