Oh yes, and happier, kinder, less whingy, more erudite, calmer person.
Basically I want to make everyone who comes in contact with me say, “Fuck, she’s got her shit together.” Or at the very least, “She’s bloody gorgeous.”
My goals are:
Continue to get fit with regular walking, weights and Pilates. OK, December was a bit of a loss with the weights thang but will start again. Tomorrow, maybe?
Continue to limit sugary, fatty foods.
Continue working on protecting my back with a monthly massage and doing daily stretches. Dang! Haven’t been doing those either and my hip is giving me gyp.
Haphazardly and randomly decluttering things.
Read down my house.
Do my garden.
Sleep well. I have worked on this with great focus and improved. For a bit. But easily slipped into bad habits again. Now I am back to being a night owl with insomnia. I am not Margaret Thatcher (heaven forbid) and can’t get by on a few hours a night. So sleep is the thing. Possibly linked to watching less crap on the tele. Why do I think, “Oh, I’ll just watch this informercial again”? Turn the bloody thing off.
Get my tax done. I am not setting any other goals until I achieve this. OK, except for all of these here.
Get my mortgage down to under half a mil. That’s a reduction of just over $40,000 off the principal.
Cleanse my face every night.
Remind myself of the Four Agreements.
Buy a robotic vacuum cleaner. (I wish I wasn’t a woman of conscience ’cause the thought of a live-in maid of dubious visa credentials is so tempting. I’d give her weekends off and treat her well. A western capitalist pig with a conscience.)
Have sandal-worthy feet.
Go to Bali. Not the bogan, trashy area. A lovely, non-touristy, but-designed-for-tourists-who-don’t-do-crowds area. Sister, are you reading this?
Have more picnics.
Beat my husband and sons at Miss Fisher Cluedo. Or at least play board games more often than once a year.
Make use of my pool.
Yep, think that about covers it. No. One more.
Eat more fish. Well, try to. Maybe.