It's only four days into the new year and I'm already wondering what the rest of the year holds for me. Of course, there were resolution made, but then I thought about it. Every year since I was about thirteen, I've made resolutions for the upcoming year. Not biting my nails has been on that list for about nineteen years {this will be the year!}. But then there's been other resolutions, ones that seem ridiculous now that I look back on them, because they were impossible. I set myself up to fail. I would get so wrapped up in completing my resolutions that when I {inevitably} didn't finish one, I felt like a failure even though I had accomplished so many other great things.
So, this year, I've gone with a different tactic: I have ideas. I wrote them down {somewhere} and I'm going to use them as guidelines for the year. Finish and polish a story. Eat healthier. Read more books {I know, I know, this one is ridiculous, but I only read 82 last year, and that's pathetic for me}. Pay attention to organization. Don't bite nails {it's more of a tradition now, really}. If I mess up on one of them {I'm looking at you, nails}, oh well. Pick yourself up, start over. I guess the biggest idea on my list is not to stress so much. I depend on myself a lot and when I have to go to other people for help, I stress. I don't want to do that anymore. It hurts me, and it hurts the people that ask me to come to them. So I'm trying for zen. Like my cat.
I guess the no stress idea came during my winter break. I had planned on writing more on this thing since I would have nothing more to do than read and decide which pair of pajama pants I would wear that day. But then. Oh, but then.
Guess who had another leg surgery?
If you guessed that guy, then give yourself a cookie because you pay attention to this blog.
We knew that he was going to need another one, so we decided to do it over break because both the boy and I would be home. We took him in on Christmas Eve and picked him up the next day. To say that we forgot how much of a pain in the butt this guy is...is an understatement. The first week was okay: it just sucked waking up at two in the morning to give him pills. But thanks to Greenies Pill Pockets, that was a breeze {he always hated those things, until this time around}. Now we're onto the second week, and he gets his stitches out on Friday, but he thinks that he's ready to go NOW. It's like he thinks that he didn't just have major surgery because he's walking and hopping up stairs while the boy and I groan and yell at him.
But, again, he doesn't care.
Now that I know he's okay and the whole first scary week is over {you know, eating, drinking, going to the bathroom, all that fun stuff a dog is supposed to do but doesn't during recovery and you think he's dying}, I have more time to concentrate on other stuff. Like work. Ugh.
And my stuff! Don't worry, I might not have been writing on the blog, but I did do some major writing to the story that I picked last month. I think I've written about ten thousand words in the last two weeks, and it only needs an ending {only} and then I get to editing. This story is fun, so I don't so much mind the editing part.
I KNOW.
I still have book reviews coming up, and I'm going to try to post one a week. I just went nuts on NetGalley, so I have plenty of fodder for this thing. In fact, I'll be back later this week for a review of a book I just finished this morning. I have to let it sit for awhile before I can figure out what I want to say about it. It's kind of weird. But good. But weird.
Welcome to 2016, folks.
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