kethrai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- New Year So, we're officially in 2004. Whaddayaknow. There are some indications that this may be a slightly better year. The Darling Husband has a job--yes, a real actual job--and starts on Monday. It doesn't seem quite real to me yet, and probably won't until there's about six months worth of paychecks in, but there you are. I have some worries about changing dynamics in the household because of this, but better that than what came before, eh? The next indication that 2004 might be a bit better is that I've lost weight. How shallow. Especially after my Fat Chick Manifestoes. But 35 lbs have dropped off in mostly painless fashion, which means I look a little better, feel a little better--although, alas, it has done nothing for my knees whatsoever. Wrecked is wrecked, I guess, and 35 lbs is no miracle as far as my patellae are concerned. I'm letting my hair grow, too. Two years ago I could not have imagined this. But a lazyass summer coupled with it not actually looking ghastly has resulted in hair that's actually sort of bob-length and growing. After 10 years, maybe it's time that I stopped letting my reactions to the Evil Ex dictate my hair style, and so we'll see how far this goes. There is also a new wind of honesty blowing through my home, in some respects--the general shakeup of this year has prompted some changes. I'm no longer on autopilot in my life, and while that's both good and bad, it's certainly a) interesting and b) bizarre. Right now I'm in winter stasis-- it's strange, still, to not have a show to go to every weekend, and I'm afraid the time off is being used more in vegging than in achieving. I guess it's needful, or I wouldn't be doing it. I never really believed in New Year's Resolutions. Given that things like the word "diet" sends me screaming for the nearest snickers' bar, it seemed counterproductive to set myself goals. But 2003 contained enough reversals of fortune that I do think I have learned to not project all that much--now I worry about two months ahead, rather than The Rest Of My Life. Two months ahead is more than enough to make me nervous, really, so the daily stress diet can remain controlled, if not eliminated. 2004 will be a year of changes, and I hope they're good ones. But I ain't resolving nothing. Lady Fate is still far too amused by curveballs, y'all. 3:03 p.m. - 2004-01-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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