Dear 2012,

Welcome.

I ring you in with very little fanfare. I ring you in with pimples and 15 extra pounds or so. I ring you in pale-faced and out of shape; tired and a little stressed. Squishy. With bushy eyebrows, again. As usual. I ring you in spent.

But I ring you in with very high hopes.

This is it. You are it, 2012. You are the year I make it happen. You are the year I write my book. The year I grow up. The year I do the things I used to think I’d do when I was grown up but haven’t done at all…yet. Things like wake up and jump out of bed. Things like plant a garden and weed it and make a salad with its bounty. Things like get in the car and drive just to see what I can see. The year I finally finish decorating my house. The year I buy an office chair (a white one). The year I rip out the awful bushes in the front yard and replace them with window flower boxes. Once and for all. The year Poor Kyle gets his teeth.

I’m getting off the pot and getting serious about my life.

Ready…

…go.

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