Some people don’t believe in them. Why wait until the new year to make a change? Do it today. I agree somewhat, but at the same time I subscribe to the “New year, new you” theory. It’s a cleansing thing. Wash off the 2014, and be shiny and clean for 2015. Trick 2015 into thinking you were always a good, healthy, go-getter. Most diets start on Monday. “I’ll just finish this tub of ice-cream today, to remove it from the house, and then we can get serious tomorrow”. I do like to set goals for each year, it gives me direction.
SMART. Umm, I know this. Specific. Measurable. A….ATTAINABLE? Realistic. T-t-t-tttttimeliness? I swear the topic of goal-setting has come up in every single unit/degree I’ve studied.
1. Read more books. I wanted to go for one a month, twelve a year. But then I remembered I have uni and tafe. Let’s say, a dismal five for the year. Do I include Gone Girl? I started it in late December, and finished it last night? Okay, no. Can I include that Cravatilicious by Matt Preston that I started in May 2014? I haven’t quite read half of it! Okay, no. Start and finish five books. The same five books. Text books not included.
2. Complete 50% of my Diploma of Human Resources. I’ve done 6% so far!
3. See my sister, in person, for the first time since 30th August 2013. Scheduled for late April.
4. Get a new job. Good god, I have been actively seeking a new job since May 2012. That is TWO-MONTHS after I started at my current job. I’m almost at my third anniversary. It is currently the longest I have stayed at the one place, in the same role. I’m not underpaid (thanks to some seriously good negotiations by myself in September last year) but I am so far under appreciated. They KNOW how good I am. But they’re also afraid of giving me control, because they’re afraid of change – “we’ve always done it like this?!” I need out. I need a job where I am NOT in a team. I’m such a vile person when I have to work in a team, a team of dragons and morons. See?!
Let’s pause for a story. I live alone, I pee with the door open. It goes without saying. Occasionally, while sitting on the couch, I kick my thongs off (NB: In Australia, thongs are footwear, flips flops, sandals, whatever). I’m sitting on the can. The dog strolls past. He stops. He looks at me. He has one of my thongs in his mouth. He is such a turd. The call from nature finally finishes. I think, he’s probably made the thong unwearable. Again. It culminates in a 15-minute sprint session around the backyard. Thong = undamaged. Me = tired. The dog = amused. He’s a whippet.
5. The ol’ weightloss resolution. By 31st December 2015 I will weigh 80kg. That means I have to lose 7kg from today (or 8kg from 1st January 2015). At this rate, doable. Plus a five-week trip to America in April/May, let’s re-evaluate then. I want to eat this thing called Crackpie. In New York. My old babysitter, also my God-sister (is that a thing? My Godparents’ daughter) recommended it, a specific place. Apparently you’re not allowed to ask or even think about how many eggs, sugar, butter is in it.
6. I want to do some obstacle event. The first that comes to mind is Tough Mudder. Yeah, maybe. It’s in Melbourne in October. I just need a buddy, or a group. I’m almost considering turning my Mum into an iron woman and taking her. “Hey Mum, watchya doing October 17/18? Nothing? Oh cool. Yeah, I’ve booked us in. For um… mud masks and pilates.” Actually, I think that would be great for her self-esteem, and something to train for. Done. Tough Mudder, with my Mum, in October. I’ll tell her in a few months. She’s 59, 155cm, pocket-rocket. It’s not beyond her. She came to the Big Day Out with me four years ago, was in the mosh pit for Rammstein. She’s proud of that, occasionally says “I was in the mosh… pit? Is that what they call it? For Rammstein.” She loved it. Probably because Rammstein are her age. I keep telling her, if she was 15 years younger, and 40kg lighter, she’d be Kylie Minogue.
7. Learn to cook something spectacular. Previously, it was a roast. I’ve nailed that. I’m a huge fan of desserts but this conflicts with resolution five. Who cares. I’ll take it to work and share it. I have friends, I’ll make them eat it. Cheesecake? Basically, I want to try something new that isn’t just a standard chicken parma, steak, cupcake, spaghetti, etc. A meal or dish I could be proud of. I made apricot jam last year, apricots from my trees! The reviews are very good. Yeah, this is a terrible resolution if we’re aiming for SMART. Shuddup.
8. Do I have anymore? OH GOD YES! I want to finish painting my kitchen. It has been almost a year. To be fair… it is not flat walls. It is wood panelled. Whose fucking idea was that? Not JUST wood panelled, but then lacquered with oil-based stuff. Ugh. So, it goes: Sand it down, wash it down, undercoat, first colour coat, second colour coat. Wait for Summer to see the wood panels shrink, touch up the gaps. Lather, rinse, repeat. And it’s a massive kitchen. Beautiful, massive kitchen. But massive. Then I am getting mate’s rates from the tiler, then granite overlay for the bench top. And then I move out. My plan is to rent this place out after five years. I have been here a few days short of two years. Fuck, it has flown by. The goal is to finish painting the kitchen by the end of this year.
9. Complete five units of Bachelor of Health Science degree. If I complete five units, it means I have three to complete in 2016 which means… I will have completed my university degree, finally. I cannot believe I am a third year student. CAN. NOT. BELIEVE. Five units is doable. I think. It would be six, however, again, I am going to the United States for five weeks in April, so that could interfere. I used to say “No, I can’t travel during the uni semester” but then I also thought, “How many times does your sister move to America, marry someone who you’ve never met, doesn’t come home, and then you don’t see your best friend (aka sister, aww, who you used to see once a week, maybe more) for over 18-months?” The uni degree will always be there, as long as I finish it before I am 30. I’m currently 27. Done. Five units.
10. Find a goddamn Pilates class. I have only ever done Pilates once. I loved it. I want to find another one in the area. I want to learn stuff. I want to enjoy it. I don’t care if I don’t make friends, or if I am shit at it. I remember the one and only time I did pilates was when I worked at RMIT Uni, so therefore I got a discount on membership at the RMIT gym, and therefore free classes. I chose a spot at the back of the class. Good idea. My body was shaking like never before. It was fucking terrified. No, wait, it was out of form (I say that like it was ever IN form). Oh my god, hilarious, embarrassing and enjoyable all at the same time. I WANT MORE!
I think I am done. But before I go. Another story. A short one. I am watching the Big Bash League cricket. I love Adam Gilchrist. Such a savvy man. And that is my story. PS: I’m drunk and I am NOT proof-reading with twaddle! Goodnight.