I'm not one of those look-back-and-reminisce bloggers, nor do I have a long list of resolutions for the new year. Or decade, for that matter. One of the many wonderful things participation in Alcoholics Anonymous has taught me is to live one day at a time.
New Year's Eve wasn't much different than most Thursday nights, except we watched college football instead of the NFL. I couldn't make it past halftime, and hope the ball dropped without hurting itself or others.
Today will be lots different from most Fridays – who watches football all day on a weekday? – but the biggest problem I have when the calendar flips from one year to the next is remembering to put the correct date on my checks.
Yes, I still write checks.
My treadmill is still being cranky (stops/starts/stops/starts/ad nauseum), my rowing machine still isn't fixed and we're going to get oodles more snow, so outdoor workouts will be limited to snow shoveling. (Did you know the muscles you use shoveling snow are there only for that purpose? If you lived in Hawaii you'd never need them!) I cleared the walks at my mother-in-law's yesterday and am more than a bit sore this morning.
Proving (not that I needed proof) that I'm a squishy, out-of-shape mess.
But miracles don't happen in a weekend, or even a week. I started eating cleanly last weekend and have done pretty well so far.
If you over-celebrated last night, I hope you feel better soon. If you went to bed early, as I did, have some oatmeal and a cup of coffee and settle in for hours and hours and hours of football and knitting and Hoppin' John, oh my!
Or, if you don't knit, loathe sports and hate black-eyed peas (the legume, not the band), what will you be doing with yourself today?