Saturday, January 3, 2015

Obligatory New Year's Post

Hey guys.

I'm writing you from my couch as I, for whatever weird reason, have fallen victim to CMT's top 20 countdown. And, I don't even like this music. But what I do like are the music videos and how unapologetically terrible they are. Cue girl in white cotton dress wearing cowboy boots while this guy sings/stalks her from a tractor. Like, hey guy, you're weird. Get back to work. Why are you singing? Why's this girl frolicking in a field that's clearly about to be plowed? None of this makes sense--this is not real life.

Real life is sitting in front of your TV while your severely swollen ankle is on ice because you sprained it on New Year's Eve. Seriously. I had wonderful plans of going to spin class, you know, kicking the year off right and instead my foot looks like it belongs to the ugly step-sister who's trying to shove it into the dainty glass slipper.

Cute. Cankles are so cute, right? I hear they're trending for 2015.

Since I am currently in a position on my couch that can only be described with the hashtag #whateverwherearethecheetos, I figured I'd do something semi-productive like blog.

So, happy new year. 2015, where did you even come from? I mean, it's 10 years since I graduated high school. TEN YEARS.

TEN. YEARS.

How did that even happen? How did I become 28? Time is a strange thing. Especially this past year, with all the changes I've made and the ones that have made me, it seems like days, weeks, months are now defined by deadlines and meetings and plans I scribble down in planners because I actually need planners now. And then suddenly, it's 2015 and I need a new one.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy. Actually happier than I've been in a long time, but I really feel sad that things seem to be just a blur of happenings anymore. My mother warned me about this--the older you get, the quicker things pass you by.

And that terrifies me.

So, my resolution for this year is not going to be the usual (even though, once this fat-faced, ugly step sister cankle heals itself, I am at that spin class!), instead I'm opting for actually taking time to do things I want to do. Seriously. And I know that sounds cliche, but once you really sit down and think about everything we do on a daily basis, how much of it is exactly what you want?

Here's to writing in fro-yo and Food Network Magazine time into your planner. Mini hikes so you can pretend you're as badass as Cheryl Strayed. Or even blogging, and not because your ankle is fat and misshapen, but because you actually make the time to do it.

Here's to 2015--make it your year, y'all! Even if it's just twenty minutes at a time.


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