2012 is done and I'm super tired. Matt and I have travelled, moved house, been burgled five (count 'em: five) times, bought a car (his name is George), I started a new job and a new blog. A mixture of good and bad, probably the way it's meant to be.
Right now, I'm in a great place. I love learning everything new there is to learn about posting on the interwebs, taking pretty photos and writing. Our new house is brilliant and I seriously cannot stop decorating (even if the curtains in our bedroom look like they were made from some early 90s boardshorts). My new job is fabulous: opportunities galore, great people and it certainly keeps me on my toes.
I'm not one for resolutions. I know if I want to do something, I have to pull up my socks and stick with it. Resolutions are no good if you're not resolute - and I'm at my weakest in January. I'm tired from Christmas craziness and beer/wine/chips/fried bits seem to jump out at me everywhere I go. Any resolutions I make normally die a quick death by January 15.
This year I figured I'd make anti-resolutions. I'm going to try to sleep through my alarm instead of running at least 3 times a week. Zero alcohol free days a week. And I will, I repeat, will spend all my extra cash on fancy food products, with a maximum of $10 a week going into my house savings.
If I'm living in the poor house, 100kgs overweight and a dribbling, drunken mess we will all know this theory has been disproven. Wish me luck!
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