50 days . . . A mere 50 days until 2018. 50 days to complete my final 2017 resolution. And things are not going well. Deer in headlights time!
What is my final 2017 resolution you ask? Oh dear. Pause for a moment and lower your standards for resolutions.
Now lower them again.
Keep going.
LOWER.
KEEP GOING LOWER!
Okay, so my final 2017 resolution is that my ex-boyfriend of the past 3 years, Ross, will not have been the last man I kiss in 2017.
Hey, I TOLD YOU TO LOWER YOUR STANDARDS. Ha ha!
Crazy, really. But I don’t want 2017 to end with Ross. Frankly, I’ll go kiss a stranger if I have to. My lips need to hit that “reset” button. Because I remember how 2017 started with Ross storming off grumpily to a local dive bar to greet the new year while I stayed in bed pretending my migraine was worse than it was because I didn’t want to kiss Ross a happy new year. (Red flags, anyone?) I just don’t want Ross to have been where my year bookmarked, my year ended.
It’s silly, pathetic even. I don’t care. I keep having this ridiculous surge of hope that I don’t know where from whence it comes. Nobody in their right mind should be so darn logical yet hopeful all the time as I am. This constant battle between realism and optimism is exhausting. Exhausting like my love life–or lack thereof.
So I have 50 days left to find some nice guy to kiss for 2017.
Yeah, I, too, am ashamed of my resolutions. HA!
AEA 