It’s the end of 2013.
I’m hanging out on the couch, watching the Jane Lynch countdown and hoping that these fireworks don’t wake up my kids, because I somehow became That Mom this year.
I make resolutions every year, but I never keep them. Literally never. I have never run that 5K, never actually finished a book, never quit smoking. I mean, I don’t actually smoke, but I still have never successfully quit. So, there’s that.
I’m refusing to call them resolutions. This year, they are just goals.
I’m going to run that stupid 5K. My sister and I are running the Color Run. or Color me Rad, maybe. Something where you run and they throw colored powder at you so you can asphyxiate on a rainbow as you jog awkwardly down the backroads of your hometown. I may never see that pre-baby body again, but I plan to never see it while running for no particular reason.
I’m going to write for thirty minutes every day. Or like, every other day. Because sometimes mama needs a nap, too. but 3000 words a week. THREE THOUSAND. The end game is to put out two novels by this day next year.
I’m going to finish thirty credit hours toward my Bachelor’s degree. I head to Southern New Hampshire University via my laptop this year, and I could not be more pumped.
I’m going to tell as many people as I can about these goals, because I need people who will be disappointed in me if I give up.
What are your goals this year?