We’ve all done it. We do it under the influence of too much champagne. We do it in a moment of weakness. We do it because of pressure from those around us. What have we done? We’ve made New Year’s resolutions that we simply don’t keep. Raise your hand if you agree with me. Yep, that’s you. And if you’re anything like me, maybe your resolutions have been solely based on appearance. So this year, instead of making a tired, repetitive resolution, I aim to do the following:
Get rid of stuff. If I haven’t worn it in the past month (save for my ‘funeral’ dress), it’s leaving my house. If I haven’t used it, it’s leaving my house.
Paint our laundry room/brewing room. Four years ago I fell in love with a paint sample from Laura Ashley called Vintage Ribbon. I painted a small area of my laundry room to see if I like d it. It’s still there. Obviously I didn’t like it. My husband says it looks like a California Raisin (remember those guys?) threw up on the wall. So I think this year I’ll paint over it.
Resist the urge to compare someone’s best with my worst. Or how about I just refrain from comparing myself to others at all? I’m an individual. My maker created me to be special and different. I’m going to celebrate those differences instead of trying to fit into a mold that I was never intended to fit in the first place.
Learn how to change a tire. Yes, I do not know how to change a tire. I also can’t drive a manual, but that’s for another year. You see, in my previous life living in metropolitan areas, I never had to worry about it. I had OnStar and they could send someone to come and fix a flat. But I sold that fancy SUV when I moved to live at the end of dirt road. And it wouldn’t do any good if I still had that fancy SUV because when I’m 1 ½ hours from a grocery store, the Calvary is not coming to save my backside. And if I had a cell phone (which I don’t, by the way) to call in the Calvary, there is no service where I live. So maybe I should be self-sufficient and figure out how to do it myself.
Now, my last resolution is going to be the most difficult. But here it is: I resolve to wash dishes every night. Gulp. There, I’ve said it. And now I’m going to explain it. I HATE to wash dishes. I would rather scrub a dirty truck stop/strip joint toilet with my own toothbrush that I will later have to use on my own teeth than wash dishes. I am not exaggerating. I hate it that much. I postpone the choir for as long as possible, which usually means that I’m washing the dishes from our last meal, while I’m cooking our next meal. I know that some women want dream homes with granite and stainless steel. Not me, nope. I want a dishwasher.