Monday

Blah.

I thought I’d write something else, but now I can’t remember what I planned to say and I’m really not very motivated.

Yeah, Monday blahs.

Hello world

I have finally managed to roust myself from my stupor long enough to post the following:

I’m not dead.  I am still functioning.  I’m still keepin’ on keepin’ on.  I just seem to be in a somewhat less than bloggy mood.  I apologize to those of you who may have been concerned at my long silence, and am deeply thankful and moved by the concern expressed by some of you all.  In my absence I have also failed to follow up with you on your blogs, and I hope that you are all well, too.

Anyway, I hope I’ll be back among you somewhat regularly soon.  I’m just kinda waiting for the muse to return.

Hugs,

Janie

Time off for behavior

I made the executive decision to take the morning off.

I enjoyed a nice lie-in.  I visited a few new blogs.  I sat around in my pajamas.

But now it’s noon.  I suppose my morning off must end.  After all, I’ve got things I want to do.  Like clean my house.  I think it may need it.  Either that or I’ve unknowingly adopted a dozen new dogs…

If I had any shame at all left, I wouldn’t post this photo.  It is pretty scary looking.  It is the corner of my bedroom, where one of Rupert’s progeny has taken roost.  I love dear Rupert, but he sheds like a beast and I just don’t have the time to vacuum as frequently as shedding season requires for the prevention of mini Rupert dust puppies.  I know I can’t put it off any longer because company is coming on Sunday, and with the windows open and fans on, the mini Ruperts have become mobile and tumble themselves down the room along the baseboards.  My good friend who is coming to visit is legally blind.  I wouldn’t want her to confuse them for real dogs.  Anybody have the local animal control number?

So, high ho-high-ho, it’s off to work I go.

Happy Friday.

Resolutions are for the resolutley resoluble

I resolve to make no resolution at all.

As, no doubt, people are now all going to be talking of resolutions for the new year, I thought I’d just say, I don’t believe in resolutions. I think they are rather a waste of time, a catch 22 even.

If you were the kind of person who would actually take a resolution to heart, then you are likely the precise kind of person who doesn’t need to make resolutions anyway. But the kind of people who I see making resolutions are the kind of people who never manage to stick with any personal improvement, and by making a “new year’s resolution” are more likely than not to do nothing with their resolutions, and perhaps more likely to not do anything of an improving nature simply because they have declared something they don’t want to change but want to be seen as fashionable and have others to nod impressively and say, “Good for you, Bob, losing 75 pounds and exercising every day for an hour and going Vegan is so admirable.” So in effect, by making the resolution they are actually perpetuating a lack of change, and if they would just resolve to be unresolved they would actually do more toward self improvement by being honest with themselves.

Ironic. I guess my argument is flawed. One could almost say by consistently not living up to one’s resolutions they are actually being consistently resolute in their irresoluteness.

Confused? Well, I confuse myself. I’m just going to stick with my point; resolutions are not for me.

I say this as I contemplate altering yet another batch of pants that I had to buy because I gained too much weight to fit into the closet full I already have. You know what truly is ironic? I hate sewing. I do it because I am cheap and at times it is necessary if one wants to wardrobe one’s self at any price less than a small fortune, because I never seem lucky enough to find bargain price clothes that fit properly over all areas of my body, and generally must buy one size big to fit my largest flaw, I mean area, and then take in the rest to fit. As I continue to gain weight at tremendous speed I find myself spending more and more time at that accursed sewing machine. I could just exercise and stop eating all the delicious bacon and gravy and pita that Leif makes, but that is a resolution that plagues one for life. And as it is infinitely more fun to enjoy a huge greasy cheeseburger and a pile of french fries washed down with Pepsi while watching the entire first season of Weeds in front of my big screen TV, than it is to eat a petite 3 oz piece of dry broiled chicken accompanied by a mountain of steamed broccoli then go for a 5 mile run, I have to say I am enjoying my vice to it’s fullest. Sewing, as miserable a chore that is, lasts a couple afternoons a month. Exercise and healthful eating is a chore that plagues you incessantly. Hmmn. Maybe my problem is that I am just the epitome of laziness?

They say a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. But in my case I think a foolish consistency may be the joy of over eaters and exercise haters but is definitely the bane of lazy cheapskates.