On 2015 and Fake NYE Resolutions

Another year is almost over. I have no New Year's Eve plans. How about you? Oh, I could go to a party I suppose, but then I'd feel guilty about leaving G-Money with the in-laws, and I'd feel even more guilty if he spent the night which has been suggested. Why all the guilt? Can't a bitch go out and have some fun for New Year's? The answer my friends, is NO!

So, after the boy goes to sleep tomorrow night, I may imbibe in some wine, catch some Netflix, and call it a night, all before midnight, most likely. It sometimes makes me long for the days of partying half the night away while dodging shaving cream slaps in the face, and then being able to sleep in until noon the following day. Happy New Year!

On to my "resolution." With resolutions in the past, I always knew I was lying to myself, like oh, I'll stop swearing so damn much, or I'm going to give up caffeine...cold turkey. You know, something that seems so simple, but you know you're never going to do it anyway. Well, I think I've come up with a reasonable resolution, or maybe, a "promise to myself." I think by now, you all know I have a passion for writing. If she's so passionate, why hasn't the bitch written anything since that boy has been born? That's an excellent question that you muttered under your breath. Here's the answer: I use the excuse of, I'm so tired chasing after that little stink pot, that at the end of the day, I want to fall into bed with a book, which, honestly, most days I do, or I catch an episode of my stories, mon'.

I did start a second manuscript before G was born, and was half way through it actually, when I decided to shelve that shit. There might be some good meat in there somewhere, but I came to a giant blockade and couldn't go any further. I didn't like where the story was going and I just gave up.

I thought the solution was... start a new project, get new ideas flushed through, that might bring new ideas to the other project. Of course, I misjudged just how tired I would be all the time and decided sleep overruled writing. So... here we are, a year and a half without a word written. Some writer I am. 

What does all this mindless babble mean to you guys? Well, quite frankly, probably nothing, but, I'm making a personal vow to myself that in 2015, I will sit my ass in that chair, whether it's in the middle of the afternoon on a weekend while the boy naps, or after the boy goes to bed at night and get some words on the page. I will follow through with my book of short stories and get it published. Probably not in 2015... let's not get ahead of ourselves here, but it will be done. I did it once, and I certainly don't want to be some single publication sucka.

In closing, it's been a roller coaster year. We mourned the loss of my grandfather, we celebrated G-Money's first birthday, along with several other of his milestones, walking, talking, eating like a man, climbing, and so on and so forth. We sold our first home and bought another one. We've been sick, we've been healthy, we've been stressed, we've been cool as a cucumber. I always like to think the next year will be better than the last, but that's always a crock of shit isn't it? Has anyone ever had a stellar year, the whole year long? You get the same problems, but in a New Year. I'll just be hoping for no major shit going down, and I'll be happy.