My Last Next Year #SOCS

Ah, yes, the end of another year (and decade this time around) and the beginning of another.

Time for folks to trot out their resolutions that will all be nearly discarded by March because they aren’t really resolutions, they’re just wishes without a plan.

I’ve done the same.

Many times.

Today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday (on a Sunday) prompt from Linda G. Hill is:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “year.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

I’m not making any resolutions this year. I’m making decisions. This will be the year I bear down and make the improvements that’ll make for a happier life.

I’ve been coasting for way too long. It’s time to do like Mr. Miyagi and Focus, Daniel San.

To start doing all of the things I know I should be doing –

• going to the gym even though I’m not feeling it
• taking the job search for new clients seriously instead of half-assing it (HEY! anyone need editng/writing/marketing help, call me, ‘K?)
• being there in all of the relationships in my life
• trying a few of the things I’ve always wanted to try/go (or try again) — longish list, so this is never going to be finished because it’ll always be added to. Like books, there’s always that one other one to read . . . one day. (and, yeah, fuck that Konda, Kondi whatever theory of tidiness — you know what brings me joy, being surrounded by books brings me joy. ALL OF THEM!).
• not having that 3rd beer (or the first one when a cup of tea would do just as well)

These aren’t complicated things to improve one’s life. They’re actually quite simple — we all know the things that we should do. We just don’t do them because they’re hard.

It’s hard to break bad habits.

It’s hard to forge for positive ones.

It’s hard to get those voices out of your head that keep muttering, “what the fuck do you know.”

This year, I’m going to wrestle and pin at least some of these hard things into submission (or at least remission). I probably won’t get them all. I shouldn’t beat myself up when I don’t.

But.

No more coasting.

I’ve been fat for too long. When you’re 48; 5’6″, and weigh more than quite a few starting NFL linebackers . . . one perhaps may be too robust. Time to make the hard choices that will move me onto the right side of not being “morbidly obese” on my medical chart.

Time to stop just mindlessly watching TV and drinking a beer and instead doing a bit of writing or reading or watching something new that I haven’t seen 1,000 times before (Cutting Edge, Road House, The Big Lebowski, Princess Bride, and a few others excluded).

It’s been a semi-shitty year. I lost mostly 3 months of it between an abscess on my ass (that has morphed into a fistula — WOO HOO, that’ll probably need . . . something next year) and severe ankle/foot pain to the point it was about impossible to walk.

Fun times.

Chronic pain is horrific. Having had a taste of it. . . can’t imagine that that’s it for life.

Was whacked from my job a year ago, partially because . . . well, that’s a conversation over an adult beverage.

Spent waaaaay too long navel gazing and just waiting and hoping that “something” would happen.

This is the last year of passivity. Of hoping for something better.

As I like to say to my girls, “wish in one hand and shit in the other, see which one fills up faster.”

Time to, er, uh, well, Ok, yeah, not a perfect analogy, but time for some action.

On the plus side, this past year wasn’t a total waste.

I’m in somewhat decent shape. I can do sets with weights I couldn’t even lift even one time back in January. So that’s a good thing. I usually don’t feel like I’m about to die after a Soldierfit Boot Camp class.

I think I’m a better writer. I’m a little bit faster. A little bit better. Hopefully I can say the same a year from today. And a year from then. And so on.

We never stop.

We should always strive to be better.

This year is the last year that’s not just a false promise to myself.