Resolved OR Year in Review

It's that time of year when we all choose the New Year's resolution that we will inevitably break. I'm aiming high for 2009, because I'm quite certain it can't possibly suck as bad as 2008. Or 2007 - what a terrible disaster of a year that was.

This year, I'm keeping it simple: I want my 23" waist back. Yes, this is shallow. I'm OK with that, though. I've been in bed since June 1, and I can't do cardio. I don't use my legs very much, and my body has morphed into an unrecognizable mushy flesh thing. Yes, I'm aware most people don't even notice, but I do. You really don't want to look at my ass, people - there's some mighty unappealing cellulite.

So, in 2009, I will get better. And when that happens, I'm going back to handstand push-ups, Pilates, exercise bikes and ankle weights when I do laundry. I'm going to get in shape - preferably not round.

But don't be fooled, my friends - I'm not changing my diet. I will still eat more bacon than a reasonable person would. I will still not eat veggies, unless, of course, they are cooked in bacon. I will not eat salad or drink diet anything. I will do things the way I always have - burning more calories than I take in until I'm back to 108, and doing cardio until I burn the fat.

There is a down side, though: I'm quite certain my breasts will go down a cup size or two (hopefully not two) once I get to fat-burning. Sigh. I guess it's one of life's conundrums.

Looking back over 2008, a lot has happened to me. In March, I left Chattanooga to move back to Hendersonville. It was a hard decision, because to me it was like admitting failure - again! I should backtrack to say I had to drop out of college a few years ago when the money ran dry. That was life failure No. 1. No. 2 is not being able to make it in another city. In my defense, however, the circumstances were beyond extenuating: parents' divorce, grandmother's heart attack and stroke, Josh's death - the icing on the cake. I was barely making it, and when Josh died, I shut down. I was unable to function. I still cry on Sept. 22. I don't think I'll ever be able to work that day.

Anyway, back to my failures. I left Chattanooga in search of greener pastures, after having stepped down from Store Manager to Assistant Store Manager due to my inability to give my partners the attention they need and deserve from a manager. It was the right decision, but it was hard, and so 2008 marked my return to ASM status. It actually happened Black Friday of 2007, but holiday is kind of a blur anyway.

I stayed on Vicki's futon until my apartment was ready, and I was there a whole week before I got sick. My sister and friends unpacked my stuff, and I set up shop in the bed. No TV, no Internet...just me and my thoughts. And 500 MENSA sudoku puzzles, which I aced!

Now, here I am, collecting long-term disability while the doctors scratch their heads and my physical therapist says such nonsensical things as "You don't need to be in bed." Right. Because I had a good day at physical therapy, meaning I walk 1/13 of a mile! And it only took 20-25 minutes. And then I went home and cried because the pain was unbearable.

Christmas was a bad day as well. Had I been insured (my COBRA paperwork has not been processed yet), I would have been in the hospital. Instead, I cried in bed for two hours, took extra muscle relaxers, and braved the family gathering.

Some good things happened, too. I got really good at Guitar Hero. Seriously, I play on expert, and it isn't hard for me. Jackson turned one, so I drugged up and went to the party. It was fun! Leslie survived her first year, so we had dinner as the first meeting of the Widows and Cripples Club! I sewed many things, which I am still doing, and with any luck, you'll all good your Christmas cards by Valentine's Day.

Both of my parents got engaged this year, and in an hour, my mom is getting married. So all was not lost, but I feel like part of me is. And now, before I depress us all, I'm signing off.