New year's resolutions never made much sense to me. You decide because the calendar is flipping from the 2008 Betty Boop to the 2009 Marilyn Monroe that it's time to change your life. In Minnesota in the dead of winter, that's not such a good idea.
I hate summer. There's so much to do in Minnesota during the summer, and so little time. Yeah, there are plenty of outdoor activities in May and September, and even April and October, but they're just not the same.
Hell, by late June we're already starting to lose minutes of daylight at night. It's just not right.
Summer is too short, it's full of too many things I cannot find the time or money for, and it goes by so fast. Usually when the summer is over I look back on it and can take pride in what I accomplished. I try not to let it go to waste, much like the last several months of my life has.
I hate heat and humidity, I hate the fact the grubby kids in the apartment across the way are outside running around making noise and I hate I bike my ass off all summer and lose very little weight. I hate summer, and I'm going to hate it even more this year. It's going to be the longest, hardest four months of my life. And if my heart can withstand the stress, I'll be a better person because of it come September. One way or another, I'll be dead by Labor Day. I'll either collapse from exhaustion and die or the life I have known for 38 years will be dead. I'll be happy with either.
My new year begins on Friday. It's going to be the shortest year of my life.