Be It Resolved

I knew a guy who kept of list of goals. They weren't little goals, either. They were goals like climb Kilimanjaro, run with the bulls, complete fifteen marathons. He accomplished his goals too, every year.

I've heard a wide range of resolutions over the past few days and have been surprised to see how many resolutions people made. Some made 101 while some made 1 for each year of age.

My first knitting resolution, to keep my work room tidy, is going to have to be handled the Flylady way: fifteen minutes at a time. It will remain a work in progress for the entire year.

I have four non-knitting resolutions for 2009.

• Try shape note singing: I knew this was going to be a 2009 goal. It had been a 2008 goal, but abject terror kept me away until December 30. I tried it. Less terrified, still significantly discomfited, I hereby resolve to go back.
  
• Blog regularly: I can't promise every weekday, given my erratic work schedule next semester. But I will write no less than three times a week.
  
• Drink more water: In 2008, I often went entire days without drinking water. This is bad. Bad for me. Bad for my skin. Bad. I got ready by buying a Hello Kitty insulated water bottle and am making progress. Drinking any water at all is certainly a step up from the zero I was drinking.
  
• Be kind to telemarketers and missionaries: The last time the Mormon missionaries came to our house, I cursed under my breath as I opened the door. I'd been expecting a guest and felt trapped. It was about 20 degrees, I was crabby, and when one of them couldn't remember his partner's name, I cut him off. These guys are supposed to spend 24 hours a day together for Christ's sake. "Look," I barked before shutting and locking the door, "It's cold. I'm not into it. Good luck on your mission." Not twenty minutes later, LB was outside, fumbling with the doorknob. When he accused me of "trying to keep out the Mormons," I agreed and told him the last straw was that they didn't know one another's names. "I know," he said. "That guy was from Tempe. Can you imagine? Today's his first day. And his partner? He's from Tonga. I asked him if he knew the haka." Apparently LB and the missionary were out in the street, dancing and stomping towards one another, ending in the missionary sticking his tongue out.

I'm dead serious about the last resolution. My small mindedness deprived me of an opportunity like this: