So, here we are, New Year’s Eve.
Whilst everyone is out enjoying the ‘hot-ticket’ in town, getting all liquored up and grabbing some cute guy whose face they’ll attach themselves to like a Dyson on a hair-ball, I shall be contemplating the ups and downs of 2011, whilst hatching my plots and plans for 2012.
Obviously, based on the fact that many of my plans either involve my kids beginning to ‘do me proud’ or on my ability to continue to hold down a ‘day-job’ for more than a day and a half, said schemes have little chance of surviving past lunchtime on New Year’s Day.
Nevertheless, plot and plan I shall.
2011 has been a mixed bag.
The Teenager’s Rebellion has been a recurring theme which I suspect is far from over and due to the hair-raising, rollercoaster nature of attempting to negotiate that particular handful, I’m afraid that for the last part of the year, trying to find something amusing to write about it all has been completely beyond me.
When your children are small, ‘Smug-Elders’ are fond of telling you that ‘it gets worse’. I used to wonder what could be worse than a baby screaming at three in the morning. This year I discovered that the sound of a police car at 3am, coupled with the empty bed of your teenager is the noisy equivalent of going to an interview with the back of your skirt tucked into your pants.
Handsome-Rob and I unfortunately had to part on the grounds that he had very serious ‘keeping-his-trousers-up-when-hot-looking-chicks-who-definitely-weren’t-me-were-just-chatting-to-him’ problems.
Cest la vie.
Officially I wish him the best.
Between you and me, I hope that it took him ages explaining to his Guv’nor why there was cress growing in his unit car.
On the upside however, I have managed to hold down a ‘day-job’ for about five months, and Annabelle isn’t pregnant or living in a bedsit with anyone called Tyler yet. These things are, by Single-Mum 2011 standards, definite wins.
2012 is going to be better. I’m absolutely sure of it.
On that basis, I solemnly vow that the following will come to pass;
1) I will try to remember that wine is a ‘sometimes’ drink.
2) I will finally get around to writing my million-dollar-best-seller.
3) I will write my superb blog every single day.
4) I will find a smashing bloke and get married at Hampton Court.
5) I will try to remember that Twiglets are a ‘sometimes’ food.
7) Ditto entertaining Annabelle.
8) I shall work hard and be happy, merry and gay (happy-gay, not proper gay. That would be well gay and that).
Yep, 2012 is gonna be just swell.
With achievable goals like that, what could possibly go wrong?
Neverthess, my lack of contact with reality aside, Happy New Year and the best of luck to you all, wherever or however this New Year’s Eve finds you.