So here we are kids. 2019. The future.
Even as I type that date it seems surreal. Like I'm going to wake up at any moment to find that this has all been a dream and it's really still 1990.
Like most other couples we know, we rang in the new year very low key; dinner with friends and then a few pints and some karaoke at our local pub we've aptly nicknamed "The Winchester." (Bonus points if you get that reference) Christmas always comes and goes like a hurricane and even though we wanted a "quiet Christmas, just us, " the holiday season is always a chaotic to-do list; shopping, cooking, parties, school assemblies. By Dec. 31, I am both mentally and physically exhausted. Add to that a few bonus days off of work, leaving my internal clock flashing 12:00. I heard Matt ask more than once, "What day is it?" More than once, I had to check.
And then BOOM!, it's the New Year and we're all supposed to get back to adulting, schedules, school. I was not ready. I am not ready. Adulting is hard.
You see, I'm a big believer that New Year's Eve sets the tone for the upcoming year. I'm really not complaining. I was with my love. We had a great time. It's just usually once the calendar turns over I get this fire in my belly and I'm off! I didn't feel that this year. I'm not talking about this New Year New Me bullshit. Barf. I've never started a diet on Jan. 1. I've never joined a gym or said "I'm not gonna *blah blah blah* this year." I'm still me. Just an older version with a more complex version of what I'd like to achieve this year, I guess.
I heard someone say that with the way the days fell over the holidays, we got kind of a soft opening to 2019. Sure. As of tomorrow, though, it's mid-January. It's time. I gotta get motivated. I gotta get back to my blog. I gotta get to the gym. I gotta get outta my soft pants.
I am fully aware that this is a First World problem. I am indulging. But I guess every now and again, we have to do that. (Treat yo'self!) The trick is knowing when it's time to give yourself a kick in the ass. I hope this blog serves as that. I'm putting it out there. I'm putting myself out there. I'm holding myself accountable. The official opening festivities of 2019 are about to begin.
...right after this glass of wine.
It is Sunday, after all.
Vanessa Sully
Even as I type that date it seems surreal. Like I'm going to wake up at any moment to find that this has all been a dream and it's really still 1990.
Like most other couples we know, we rang in the new year very low key; dinner with friends and then a few pints and some karaoke at our local pub we've aptly nicknamed "The Winchester." (Bonus points if you get that reference) Christmas always comes and goes like a hurricane and even though we wanted a "quiet Christmas, just us, " the holiday season is always a chaotic to-do list; shopping, cooking, parties, school assemblies. By Dec. 31, I am both mentally and physically exhausted. Add to that a few bonus days off of work, leaving my internal clock flashing 12:00. I heard Matt ask more than once, "What day is it?" More than once, I had to check.
And then BOOM!, it's the New Year and we're all supposed to get back to adulting, schedules, school. I was not ready. I am not ready. Adulting is hard.
You see, I'm a big believer that New Year's Eve sets the tone for the upcoming year. I'm really not complaining. I was with my love. We had a great time. It's just usually once the calendar turns over I get this fire in my belly and I'm off! I didn't feel that this year. I'm not talking about this New Year New Me bullshit. Barf. I've never started a diet on Jan. 1. I've never joined a gym or said "I'm not gonna *blah blah blah* this year." I'm still me. Just an older version with a more complex version of what I'd like to achieve this year, I guess.
I heard someone say that with the way the days fell over the holidays, we got kind of a soft opening to 2019. Sure. As of tomorrow, though, it's mid-January. It's time. I gotta get motivated. I gotta get back to my blog. I gotta get to the gym. I gotta get outta my soft pants.
I am fully aware that this is a First World problem. I am indulging. But I guess every now and again, we have to do that. (Treat yo'self!) The trick is knowing when it's time to give yourself a kick in the ass. I hope this blog serves as that. I'm putting it out there. I'm putting myself out there. I'm holding myself accountable. The official opening festivities of 2019 are about to begin.
...right after this glass of wine.
It is Sunday, after all.
Vanessa Sully
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| And I have a wicked case of the Mondays. |
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