I always enter the New Year feeling a bit ambivalent. There are a myriad of resolutions that start manifesting, slowly infecting my still sound mind towards the end of the year. With all these new contaminating thoughts, I end up composing a list of New Year’s resolutions. My seat is pre-booked on so many waggons and failure is not rewarded the attention and thought that it usually gets. This year my blissful list of revoltingly simple resolutions elicited a storm of inner protest, and at the beginning of January it slowly started eroding away. Yes, I was obviously planning on at least trying to stick to some resolutions… but I am like old tic-tac…I have lost my elasticity and my ability to stick to anything. Maybe because I dropped of the wagon like a stone, gathering a lot of moss on the way down the hill, the explanation remains unclear. I did stick to depriving myself of all things deliciously chocolate, and even though I might have enjoyed that wagon ride for the briefest, mini-fraction of time, sadly I plonked off that wagon too. So there has been a momentary hiatus in my list of resolutions… what to do… In my opinion the votes are in for a new list, lowered expectations, leave room for growth. After all, my birthday is approaching, and a girl’s got to have cake.