Resolutions

Yeah, I'll admit it. I have them. I'm not above the allure of a fresh start, new hope to fit into my size 8 jeans...but I don't establish said resolutions because it's a "new" year, but because January 1st is a date that has a solid 6 month jump on any kind of major festivities that could possibly cause me to overeat.

Valentine's Day and Easter ain't shit...it's the summer celebrations that draw me into the fold of fatty goodness.

The Fourth of July is evil. It celebrates the birth of our country, you say? Well, I say it celebrates the beginning of 6 months of fat collection on my ever-expanding ass. Examine if you will, my personal timeline of doom.

July: Barbeques, numerous family birthdays...all opportunities to shove cake and ice cream and burgers and potato salad into my piehole with both hands. Damn you, July. Damn you.

August: Family vacation. Being away from the comforts and childproofing of home for 7 days straight is a complete fucking nightmare. I migrate toward booze and potato chips to dull the pain, every time.

September: My birthday. Cake, candy, eating out, ordering in...my birthday isn't a "day", but a week of stuffing my face. Next year will be particularly dangerous since I will be one step closer to 30. Dear God. Somebody get me a pizza.

October: Motherfucking Halloween. Damn the pagans, and damn the Mars company for their "fun size" Snickers.

November: Thanksgiving. Pumpkin pie, and enough turkey to choke a large animal. I love Thanksgiving, not because I see my family and "give thanks", but because I get to stuff my face yet again.

December: This month is my absolute downfall. Stress, food, candy, stress, holiday buffets, stress, company holiday parties, candy, stress, dessert, dessert, dinner, more stress...I think I probably gain a solid 5 pounds during the holiday season, no exaggeration.

New Year's Day is probably the least fun day of the year. Hung over, you can't even eat what you want, and guilt will FORCE you to go to the gym.



So, Baby New Year...my old nemesis...we meet again! I plan to get obscenely drunk before your arrival, and eat as much dessert as I can before the clock strikes 12. Then my ass belongs to you. Fucker. Just don't expect me to change your shitty diaper, I'm already knee deep at home.