Whenever a birthday comes around, I try to look back on the past year and think about what I did well or (in a lot of cases) not so well, and resolve to do better. I think it works better by not waiting for New Year’s Day, because shortly after January 1 comes all the December bills and income taxes, and these deliver quite a reality check roundhouse kick to the head no matter what your intentions.
First, I plan to forget trying to write neatly and just concentrate on jotting things down so I can at least read them. When I was in school, teachers certainly did teach good penmanship, but only as long as every student was right-handed and good with spacial relationships. I may have been destined to be left-handed, but we’ll never know: I was forced into a pen hand so disastrous that I had to re-teach myself a better script as an adult simply because I was so darned tired of slowing my handwriting down just to conform. My journals and notebooks all contain sparse entries in a neat scrawl, which is why they are so sparse. Heck, I just want to let the creativity rip and make a mess on those pages. I bought the things, so if I want them to look like maniacal ravings, it’s my privilege.
I also want to walk more. Working in a call center at a desk spells disaster for any physique. Add to it all the car commuting I do, and there is very little time for walking. I do like to walk; when I go to New York City I walk from the Port Authority Bus Terminal to Lincoln Center at a decent clip without getting winded, so I think I could add some more foot time to my routine if I can find it. Recently the Philadelphia transit workers went on strike, and traffic was at a standstill, so everybody in the city walked. I walked to University City, where the University of Pennsylvania and Drexel campuses are located, along the 20-block uphill grade in about 15 minutes. Whether the workers go back or not, I may just consider ditching the bus altogether.
I would also like to go on a date once more in my life, without being considered a cougar. Since when did age become a predatory aspect of female nature but not so for men of any age?
There are others I want to do, like figuring out why I can’t get the stitch count right in my crocheting, but these will do for now. If I finish any one of them in a year, I’ll never complain about being another year older again.
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