Resolutions

I don't really make them anymore. I've just about given up all my vices...to the point that I am a terrible bore. Hell, I don't even know why I blog anymore. So I was reading an article in my Southern living this morning, explaining why southern men should resolve, and I wondered if I should have made a resolution. I don't really feel like causing myself undue stress with a resolution that would benefit others, such as being on time. Hmmm, that would be a good one. I've been late most of my life. I missed the school bus all the time, had to trick myself with an incorrectly set alarm clock in order to get to work on time...not early, just by the hair of my neck, and am usually late to every family event 30 minutes to an hour. I'm not a morning person and I'm OCD, in a funny way I think, not in a crazy, debilitating way. When the making it to work by the skin of my teeth got to bothering me, I would just begin trying to make it to work 30 minutes early. I should begin prepping for Lee's breakfast and lunch the night before. Not the eggs, just the meat and lunch. Okay, so I resolve to think ahead, because my brain doesn't work well in the morning.

I refuse to put restrictions on the food I eat or what I drink because I already have to watch that. I don't eat sugar. I limit my carbs. I don't drink like I used to, like I like to, because it messes with my blood sugar levels and most of the time I end up a very mean drunk. One minute I'm smiling, laughing, then I'm mad about nothing and calling someone an asshole during a blackout. Blackouts are scary as hell. If I had a deep dark secret, you could probably ask me, I'd tell the absolute truth and not have the slightest recollection. I remember the first time it happened, in Memphis, I woke up not being able to recall showering, making Lee hang my clothes, and having sex with him. All my idea, I'm sure. The last thing I remember is getting in the cab to leave the martini bar, sort of. I gained the rest of the information by asking Lee questions beginning with "Why..." Why is my hair wet? Why are my panties hanging up? ....you get the picture.

I think I will wear bras this year. I hate the damn things. Mostly because they don't fit me. I have a drawer full of Very Sexy bras in various colors from when I weighed more. They don't fit now. My boobs shrunk. I lost the fatty inches around my ribs. They just slide around and annoy me. I didn't see a need in buying new bras for the longest time after I quit work and lost weight. Recently I've found some sports bras that fit. It's difficult to find one that will slide over my boobs but will still be tight around my ribs.

I will throw out things we don't need. I will find something to take to Goodwill, or just trash if I don't think anyone would need it, every week. There's a resolution. It will make our home a better place to live and perhaps help others, too.

I will turn off the tv after Live with Regis & Kelly goes off, because Rachel Ray sucks me in and, then, I look up to find that I've been listening to the useless bullshit Dr Oz and his quack guests are filling people's heads with while I'm finishing up my blog. I like Rachel, but it seems that she is the gateway show to Dr. Oz. Dr. Oz is creepy.