Today is January 3rd, 2011, and we are barely into the brand new year. Three days have officially passed in 2011…and I’ve already officially broken three of my friggin’ New Year’s Resolutions.
I figured that fessing up to my failures was a good plan, you know…cuz I believe in karma and all that jazz. Without further ado…I give you three of my New Year’s Resolutions that are already in the shitter.
RESOLUTION #1: “To recognize when I’m about to have diarrhea of the mouth and act like my jaw is wired shut instead. Translation: I vow to stop ripping the hubster a new asshole when he doesn’t deserve one. Just because I can’t find the scissors doesn’t necessarily mean that he intentionally hid them just to drive me insane.”
REALITY: On New Year’s Day, I yelled at the hubster at least twice before noon. Somebody seriously needs to shove a good dose of Immodium AD down my throat. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t find himself a new wife by 2012.
RESOLUTION #2: “To lay off the booze.”
REALITY: Ok, so I may have been pretty much kidding when it comes to the whole “laying off the booze” thing, but I was seriously going to try to cut back a bit. I was planning on having green tea for my evening night cap tonight, but this morning, I got my AeroPilates DVD stuck in my laptop, which proceeded to shit the bed to the point where I couldn’t even turn it off. I drove 45 minutes to The Apple Store this afternoon, waited another 45 minutes at the Genius Bar to see one of their “geniuses” (even though I had a reservation), and when I finally sat down with my assigned geek, he was done with me in about five seconds. He managed to shut off the laptop, reboot it, and pop the stuck DVD out before I had the chance to make an excuse for why I couldn’t figure it out for myself.
Did I mention that my new AeroPilates reformer with cardio rebounder is the most kick-ass workout I’ve ever tried? I’m so sore that it hurts to shit.
Pass the vodka, please. Green tea is for sissies.
RESOLUTION #3: “To either seriously consider getting a boob job or shut the hell up about my saggy, minuscule boobs. At least there is never a chance of them making me look fat, right?”
REALITY: I hate my fu&%ing boobs. Today, after the completely and totally worthless trip to The Apple Store, I figured that I’d pop into Ann Taylor Loft to pick myself up something cute as a reward for my trouble, and to validate the drive out there somehow.
There was THE CUTEST little black dress on sale. I tried it on…and without getting into numbers, I will tell you that it WAS NOT a big size. Like at ALL.
But my boobs STILL couldn’t fill out the top, so I left Ann Taylor Loft without that little black dress.