Resolutions Are Like Old Lady Hips. Made To Be Broken...
It's 10:23pm on Wednesday night. The night before the last day of the year. 2009 seems to be ending the same way it started. I'm laying in bed, in my flannel, feety pajamas. I'm in pain. My abs are sore from doing P90X. It's not working. I feel uncomfortably overweight and I'm regretting the obscene amounts of BBQ I inhaled at supper time. I will probably take a pain killer in a few minutes but not before I'm at least half way through this post; For I know it will be a race against time. This is a race I always lose. I will be unconscious shortly after. Unconscious is a good thing when you can't straighten your body. I have the posture of a giant prawn. If I had to fight Estelle Getty in a cage match, I would lose miserably. I don't care if she's dead. It doesn't matter. I suck. At this time last year, I posted: New Years Resolutions Are Stupid . I'm not going to get into it but suffice it to say, I botched just about every one of them. Isn...