It's a new dawn, it's a new day

The new year is almost upon us. Each year I can't help but wonder, on the eve of that first day, how my life will change over the course of the next 365 days.

Last year, our new year's day was spent buying a car. Neil's Saab died on Christmas Eve and we replaced it a week later. Nothing like starting out 2010 with a car payment. But we managed, and it's going well. It wasn't the devastating blow to our finances I had feared. We got a nice car out of the deal with an affordable payment, and for that I'm grateful.

So, how will 2011 turn out? I guess there's really no way of knowing is there? I do know this year has the potential to be quite different from what we're used to. Things will most likely change. How drastically they change will be the surprise and I look forward to finding out.

The unknown ... is an adventure.
Maybe 2011 will be the start of ours.

But being that it's New Year's Eve Eve (and I probably won't have enough time to do this tomorrow) I should probably get my resolutions down in print. Normally I don't make resolutions because they usually end up broken. But this year one of my promises ... is to keep my promises.

So here we go, my resolutions for 2011:

1. Be a better friend. Ask questions. Listen. Be understanding.

2. Be a better wife. Relax. Be patient. Relax. Be patient.

3. Take more risks. Be confident. Work harder. Believe in myself.

4. Stick to my goals. Be resilient. Be strong.

5. Worry less. Worry less. Worry less. Worry less.

Fog lights required

I am in a Christmas fog.

It happens every year, like a lazy depression. Not actually depression, but more of a "winding down after the hype." There is so much build-up to Christmas day, with all the preparations and gift-buying and decorating. The holiday spirit lives in our house for a solid month, a crescendo of excitement and wonder. Then Christmas day happens and it's over, just like that. As soon as the last present is unwrapped we usher our Christmas Spirit out the door, where it sits homeless and frightened until the next December rolls around.

Every high has a low, and every low is hard to climb out of. But the good thing is this seasonal low is met with a new year, meaning new chances and new promises. Most of those promises I make to myself will undoubtedly be broken, but at least, like every year, I'm going to try. Who knows, maybe this is the year I succeed.

My first plan of attack: actually go back to spin class no less than twice a week.

My second plan of attack: work out with my husband so we can hold each other accountable.

My third plan of attack: have my implant removed.

My fourth plan of attack: have my cavities filled. 

My fifth plan of attack: pay down my debts.

And there you have it. All these plans are worth turning on the lights and slowly driving my way out of the Christmas fog bank. Now if I could just accomplish them all from my couch ...