We are just about to that halfway point in the year when all our New Years Resolutions seem to have become a thing of the past. Resolutions? What resolutions? I don't need no stinkin' resolutions! (I say this as I purchase another pound of that silky french brie that I will inhale in one sitting.) Well, guess again. It's time to get back to business.
1. Get my gubbledy-goo'd up arse a little less gubbledy-goo by year end. If I drop 10 lbs I'll be happy. 15 and I'll be on top of the world. 20 and I'll start getting all Ms. Banks-y up in the heezy complete with cat-walk strut and telling everyone to kiss her fat ass.
2. Participate in another 5k, preferably one where Mamma B and I don't have to taser the princess into at least jogging 500 yards. (I'm officially the Ms. B, which stands for Ms. Bitch, in case any of you were confused. It goes back to my teenage angst years, and my dad continues to call me that to this day. So does Mamma Bestie, though. In a couple of months her preggo hormones will get the best of her, and I'll simply exchange "Bestie" for "Biotch". I mean this with all the lacy, ribbon-y, buckets of kittens and puppies love, though.) I hope to at least jog part of the way, so I'll need to start jogging again to get my endurance up. Mamma B took the taser away from me because I was getting too drunk with power, so now I can't use it volunteer the princess into participating too. Guess I got too greedy.
3. Pass the dreadful interview I need to pass in order to keep my job and get Big Poppa raise. That's right. I'll be big pimpin', spending cheese. (That was a nod to the ex, since he was so flat stupid he actually thought Jay-Z was saying cheese instead of Gs. I mean this with all due respect, but - and I say this with my best NJ/NY accent - what are you's retahded or sumpthin'?)
4. Finish the princess's baby book. Considering she's hardly a baby anymore and has morphed into the hormonal gremlin of hate, I think it's time. Plus, when I'm done I can pass on all my scrapbooking gear to Mamma B so that she can begin to chronicle the new baby's every step.
5. Save, save, save. Let's face it: money doesn't grow on trees. Wait...where have I heard that one before? Oh yes, the parents. Funny how suddenly you turn into them when you get older. I promise not to start spouting off anything about jumping off a bridge if my friends told me to or that there are starving people in Ethiopia. (I've used both those lines on the princess already!)
And for now, that's all I've got. I'm sure there are more things I could be doing better. What are your mid-year resolutions?
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