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Thursday, January 5, 2012

Broken Promises











Be Broken...





Less Than




I did. Break my promise to you. To be "New" in the New Year. To leave the "Old" me behind. A serious misstep. I missed a step. Literally. While carrying the Christmas tree down the stairs for storage. Blam! I prefer getting my radiation from the sun, but X rays were required. So was my name, the name of the current President, my ability to touch my finger to my nose, and some other questions I can't remember, but they must have been multiple choice, as I was released on my own recognizance, shrink wrapped in an elastic bandage. Bruised but not broken. Shaken but not stirred.

Rest. Ice. Compress. Elevate.

Swell! Simply swell! It did. 

Great. Great. Grate. It did. On my last nerve.

Compress. The seat cushion in my chair needs to be replaced. I have left my imprint behind, so to speak. 

Ice. In a stiff drink. Which is not allowed.

Elevate. Thank you no. Moving in any direction scares me.

I have come to the conclusion that making New Year's Resolutions is merely tempting Fate. But the NEW me, not the OLD one, is pressing on. Staring into the Fear. Unflinching. Resolute NEW resolutions to replace the OLD, NEW resolutions. Daring. Brave and bold. 

1) I promise to stop asking "why". I find that no matter what the explanation, the very next thing that comes to mind is "but why", followed by the obligatory "I don't know" which leads to confusion, which leads to another "why" which leads to a massive headache and a minor case of delirium. My resolution, then, when standing on the bottom of the well, will no longer be "why", but "how" do I get out. Then the next resolution, stay away from large gaping holes in the earth, carry a rope ladder wherever I go, and slap a GPS tracking bracelet on my wrist. 

2) I resolve to stop worrying about every little thing. You see I told myself that I would lose those post holiday jiggles and I did. I lost a pound today. The scale erupted in digital bliss. 1.0 of me. Then I started thinking. I wonder where it went. Where it landed. Did some poor passerby just stop, grab their thigh and sigh "oh dear"? Now when someone else feels a jiggle when they wiggle, are they wearing me, like a tiny belt around their waist? Me out in the universe hitching a ride? If I eat some chocolate immediately, will that right the wrong?

3) I swear I will stop trying to come up with the perfect retort to passive aggressive people. It's a lose lose. What is there to say when someone says, I know you dislike me, but I really like you? I wasted two days on this one. What? What? What is there to say? What is the appropriate response? Ah. Ha. You think you have a great comeback, right? Try it. You're sunk. Mathematically speaking, you never had a chance, because Premise A, you dislike me equals you are a meanie and Premise B, the B as in But, says I like you which equals I am so much nicer than you. Which leads to the question "why" are you wasting your time with me, which is a "why" question that leads to delirium which I have promised to stop asking, therefore, I suggest throwing your hands in the air and talking to yourself. It will be a much friendlier conversation. I see people doing it in the supermarket all the time. They seem content. What do you mean they are talking on their phone? In their ear? No wonder when I smiled at them, thinking they were talking to me, they looked...odd. I thought they were wearing a hearing aid, so I raised my voice. I should get one of those. I wouldn't turn it on. I could just talk to myself, legally. I could say. How are you? Grin widely and then say, Me too! Sweet.

4) I give my word that I will build three rings in my garden. My neighbor says that our house is one clown short of a circus, and considering the fact that I already have a tent for my shows, I will be ready with my new in-the-ear-phone-device to receive the incoming call from the Ringling Brothers. 

5) I take an oath to send out my Christmas cards in December, except that is sort of cheating, as they are sitting here in a box, right next to my resting, iced, compressed, elevated right hand, while I type with my left, so this will be the first resolution for the New Year that is one year away.


If this all seems a bit off kilter, don't say you weren't warned. I did tell you that I couldn't recall the answers on the concussion quiz, and I am typing with my left hand which is on the same side as the frozen shoulder that only recently thawed, which may make no sense to you whatsoever if you have not been reading my blog posts over the past year, which is your fault, because if you had you would know the REAL story.

This, my dear friends, is NOT Reality TV. This is Reality GARDEN. This is where I wear yellow wellies, tell stories, fall down, brush myself off and start all over again. 

                               So...Happy New NEW Year. 

                                     See you next time.

  Or, perhaps, in the first aid aisle of the supermarket...or....

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