I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions. That is to say, I know they exist--like ghosts. But we all know they are a smokin' pile of hookie that just make you feel like the total loser you are by, oh, February. Me? I decided to tell tradition to "suck it" this year by making some lifetime goals...lifetime goals I wish to attain by this December.
First, blog more. I want to blog daily again, but I'll even settle for weekly. And in the true spirit of everything embodying Cassidy, my first attempt didn't happen until February 9th. It's not that I haven't had a bloggable event since my last update three months ago (if you could call that segment of bitching a post, really). My life has actually been laden with so much social retardation and unfortunate happenstance that I'm waiting for big reveal with a hidden camera crew that's been behind the shenanigans. And since I always feel that I should share this chaos in chronological order, I just end up shelving it for a quarter year. Now it's being skipped altogether. Or perhaps I will make it a surprise debut at a later posting, just to keep all my readers intrigued? Hmm...
But back to my ridiculous goals and standards cleverly disguised to not seem like a New Year's Resolution fad...
I also want to organize and clean my house so that when these disasters keep popping up in my life, I don't have to panic about the condition my bedroom is in for people to either fix what broke in my bathroom this time, or come rescue me from whatever creature found its way inside.
There's this crazy thought in my head that, if I throw away all that crap I don't need AND have a place for all the things I do then maybe, MAYBE, for the love of BLOG my house might stay clean long enough for me to relax, or read a book at a pace that won't give me a brain tumor later.
Finally, I forgot all of my other goals. I think that tumor might have already settled in.
Today's subject line quote is Peter Griffin, "Family Guy" (1999)
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