By Kelley Cunningham
It’s the start of a new year, and that means it’s time for a fresh start. This year, O Mighty Being o’ the Clouds, I shall let the Evolved Woman/Smarty Pants/Total Babe Within shine.
La la la…where to begin? So many IMPROVEMENTS to be made! This is exciting!
I’ll start by resolving to broaden my vocabulary! I will endeavor to use words like “whilst” a lot more often.
I also resolve to shave my legs at least once this winter, even though I don’t plan on wearing shorts or having sex anytime soon. When I’ve got smooth legs I feel like an Alpha Female! Growwwwl!
I resolve to accept that I will never be a gym rat. Why spend thousands to go to the gym just to climb stairs? Heck, I’ve got stairs in my very own home, and I can climb them in my underwear if I want. Or even in the nude, provided it’s a school day. And I can even cross-train whilst carrying a loaded laundry basket up and down, over and over. Nude cross-training in the privacy of my own home! What could be better?
I resolve to not poison my neighbor’s terrifying dog, no matter how many times the stupid, rabid beast dashes at me, snarling, and makes me have to go back into the house and change into a dry thong.
I resolve that 2007 will be the year that I come to terms with my mixed feelings about using the free address labels that charities sometimes mail to me, even though I often don’t contribute to their particular causes.
I resolve to get into that aromatherapy stuff. I’m tired of walking into my home and having it smell like a toxic combination of kid socks and cat butt. I’m going to go over to the Wal-Mart and pick up tons of Febreze and potpourri and candles. I know all those scents will make my house feel like it should be featured in Real Simple. With the headline “Kelley’s Home: A Paradise for the Senses and a Sanctuary for the Soul.”
And while I’m at it, I resolve to turn my home into a personal spa! I will get all kinds of scrubs and soaps and lotions and sandpaper and put them in my bathroom, artfully arranging them in a basket by the sink. I’ll get rid of the sample size stuff I swiped from the Comfort Inn on my last trip to Maumee, Ohio. My skin’s gonna glow like a peach!
I resolve to get organized. I am fed up with a junk drawer that seems to laugh maniacally at me as I rifle through it, searching in vain for the birth certificate I need to sign the kid up for Little League. I’m going to buy a bunch of those Rubbermaid plastic storage bins. I’ll label everything, like “AIR MATTRESS THAT’S MISSING THE RUBBER STOPPERS” and “UNOPENED PILATES DVDs,” and “BATTERIES THAT MIGHT BE DEAD BUT I’M NOT SURE.”
And what’s more, I resolve to keep my purse clean! I waste too much time fishing for my keys, standing next to the car in the rain, balancing my purse comically on my knee, sweating, cursing, and avoiding the curious looks of passersby. I’m going to remove the crushed Kleenex stuffed with old gum instead of giving up and buying a new purse like I used to.
Speaking of buying new purses…I resolve to get my finances in order! Target will have to find someone else’s picture for their “Customer of the Year” bulletin board. I will save a ton of money! Yup! This is the year I will go to bed and rest easy, knowing my IRAs and 401(k)s and 529s are magically growing, being managed and what not, and I can rest assured that I will not have to wear a barrel to my retirement party.
I hereby resolve to not hide in the garage anymore when I hear my kids calling “MOMMMMMEEEEEE!”
I resolve to get enough sleep. I’m going to force myself to go to bed at a REASONABLE HOUR, and not stay up looking at used furniture ads on craigslist. No more cursing the morning and throwing the pillow at the alarm clock. No more whimpering pitifully and questioning the reason of my very existence as I crawl on all fours to the shower. No more recoiling as I catch a glimpse of my morning face in the mirror. No more coffee IVs.
And I resolve to work on my road rage problem. I will meditate on the tenet that I cannot possibly be the only driver on the road who knows what the acceleration lane is for. Somehow all that good Zen karma will radiate out from me to the driver in front of me, magically influencing him to become acquainted with the concept of turn signals.
I resolve to buy some article of clothing that isn’t black. Heck, I’m gonna buy some BROWN stuff. Or even loden, if I’m feeling extra saucy.
Also, I resolve to buy more scarves. When I open up the J.Jill catalog all the women are wearing those filmy, Stevie Nicks-y scarves tossed with devil-may-care abandon about their shoulders. Seeing them laughing at nothing whilst posing on driftwood logs on the beach, I reason that the only difference between my life and the beautiful J.Jill life is lots and lots of scarves.
And lots of driftwood. But I’ll save that resolution for next year. I don’t want to set myself up for failure here.
Need more Kelley? A hefty collection of her great essays, What's the Matter With Mommy?, is now available on Amazon.com.
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