Resolutions, One Day Late

I'm nearly too tired to think, today. Had another of those rubbish nights last night--didn't get to sleep till well into the grey hours, and got woken up at daybreak by my personal packbawky choir. I thought a towel over the cage was supposed to keep them snoozing! One more illusion down the drain, eh what? At any rate, I'm a bit on the draggy side today. I'm not in the mood for much, save for soup, videogames, and list-making:

1) I will stop saying the first damn-fool thing that pops into my head. It is never acceptable to make toilet jokes in the library, or tell one's conservative in-laws to "get that dog a tampon"--even if the library bogs are overflowing, and the bitch is in heat. It is furthermore unacceptable to use the eff-word in front of one's mother, even if her accent is driving one round the twist. (She doesn't enunciate her consonants properly. "This" becomes "dis" or "nis," and "well" becomes "mell." Effs turn into vees, and--oh, it all sounds hopelessly vulgar. Completely proletarian. I didn't spend twenty years beating that accent out of my voice for Mother to come here and re-indoctrinate it in the space of a week!)

Hang on, this is supposed to be a resolution, not a diatribe against horrible Scottish accents. Did I mention the rhyming slang? She uses rhyming slang, and all. Always "having a butcher's" and "telling porkies," she is. Caw. That's the worst of Scotland and the worst of England, that is, all mixed up into one. It's a disgrace! It's an embarrassment! It's blue-collar with stains on. It--it--

--oh, I'm at it again.

2) I will make sure the people I like know that I like them. I can be a bit distant, in the same way Africa's "a bit distant" from the Isle of Arran. I don't always write or telephone when I should. I never hug or kiss. When someone asks me a personal question, I answer with a joke. I let e-mails sit unanswered for weeks on end, without a word of explanation. (Usually, I'm just tired, is all, but I really ought to say so. Folks who aren't used to my absent-mindedness might get the wrong idea.)

3) I will stop eating crackers for breakfast. Certainly, crackers are delicious, but mornings are the only times I can eat much of anything without being plagued with heartburn or nausea. Thus, I ought to eat something substantial. I'm supposed to be gaining weight--doctor's orders, and all. For my vanity, too: I look like an oddly-dressed skeleton, or John Cleese with breasts on.

Furthermore, no-one likes cracker-crumbs in bed.

4) I will do something worthwhile. That is to say, I'll draw a brilliant picture, or write a book, or prevent a puppy from drowning, or--well, you know. Something. When I'm a hundred years old and knocky of knee, I want to look back and go "Ah, 2006! How could I forget? That was the year I [did something really, really good, which would go in this space]! Those were the days. Slice of life, what. Ey, be a love and pass the Ben-Gay."

5). I will really do all these things, even though I'm just writing them up because my mind is a complete blank, and I can't think of anything better to say. (Really! Really-really. Just watch.)

6). I will not stop gossiping. If I did, my head would explode from the pressure of other people's secrets. However, I will no longer spread nasty rumours...unless someone else is already spreading them, and all I'm doing is embellishing the tale. That's all right, isn't it? I mean, once the cat's out of the bag, who cares how many bells he's got on?

7) I will stop watching America's Next Top Model. Though there's something both touching and hilarious about watching desperate girls struggle to read words like "magenta" and "chartreuse" off a teleprompter, us rats have better things to do with our time. (Vacuuming the cracker-crumbs out of the couch, for example.)

And that's about all. Reckon I'll piss off to bed now.