It's January 31st.
In a few short hours, I will be able to reflect upon last month and realize all the resolutions that I had made a month ago were severely neglected. Ignored. Shunned.
So, I don't know if there is actually any point in trying to hop on a wagon that left the area such a long time ago, but I feel that I should start making a few improvements in my life. After all June is only five months away.
Huh? Yeah, I know.
I don't know how shallow this is, but this year, I want to feel a bit better in my bathing suit. I do a lot of swimming in the summer time, and while I feel free enough to not have to cover up anymore and can wear a bathing suit without a T-shirt overtop, I do know that I don't have the body of a supermodel. Not even a plus-size supermodel.
What can I say? My New Year's Eve drinking binge was followed by successive Thursday Girls' Nite Outs. I don't usually get to go, but, surprisingly I made all 4 Thursdays this month. I used to only go out once a month and sometimes only once every 2 months, but I've had amazing luck in the free babysitting area, so how can I pass that up?
The hard thing to face is this: I like beer. I like good food. I like hanging out with my friends at this great Belguim Beer Pub. The sorry thing is that you can only have so many pints before it all goes to your waist. Your legs. Your butt. Everywhere.
And the thing is that I'm starting to like going out more. It used to be a chore. I hated arranging for a night out. Spending what little cash that I have. Wasting time in smoky, crowded places. Lately though, it's been a hell of a lot of fun.
I'm not so much worried about my alcohol consumption but to the other things that go with it as well. Appetizers. Late night pizza. Weird flirtations. Afterhours parties that I used to only hear about but now seem to spend a lot of time at. Making it home just before the sun comes up.
I do think I'd better pull in the reins a bit. I'm not going to make any useless hardcore resolutions, but just keep a better eye on my wanton behavior.
Sigh.