I don’t like making resolutions in January because my life is not my own that time of year. I belong to a job from August to May. January doesn’t even feel like the start of a new year. It’s just a continuation of the current school year. May is when I actually have a slim chance of reinventing myself for the next year.<\/p>\n
Yet I can’t bring myself to make resolutions even now. This has been a bear of a year, and I’m all out of resolve.<\/p>\n
I can probably scrap together some frayed and fragile edges of hopes, though. Even that seems questionable. The school year might be at an end, but responsibilities still loom. What am I supposed to say for my resolutions or my hopes? Get this done, get that done? Fun.<\/p>\n
And then of course there is this truly looming thing of the oil blob that could decide to attack my state at any point. Maybe anything I might choose right now as a summer goal would change if I were suddenly to be overcome with the need to volunteer, or if I were to become immobilized by depression over the destruction of our coastline.<\/p>\n
Still, I guess I do have some wish-I-woulds. I wish I would exercise more, get my house in order, and find some time to relax. I wish I would find some time to write fiction and poetry. I wish I would learn more about my camera. I wish I would set aside some days for fun with children. I wish I would go to the beach with my camera before the oil arrives.<\/p>\n
As one of my niece’s friends put it quite aptly, I’m still paying alimony to the gym though we’ve been divorced for a while. I wish I would make an attempt to reconcile.<\/p>\n
It’s impossible, though, to do all I wish. I’m just going to take it one thing at a time. For today, I’ve been puttering around the house pretending to clean. There’s no visible proof I’m having an effect yet, but I have aspirations for the next few days.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I don’t like making resolutions in January because my life<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[41],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-449","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-managing-me"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/449","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=449"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/449\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=449"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=449"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.writerlyhaphazardry.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=449"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}