New Year's resolutions in mid October

While shopping at Marshall's yesterday, I noticed that all the Christmas decorations had been set out. Seeing all those Santas and ornaments served as a poignant reminder that my year is almost over and that come the new one, I will most likely be filled with an overwhelming, if short-lived desire, to change for the better the existing me amidst a whirly-whirl of resolutions that I invariably forget as fast as I formulate. Some are old standbys: Lose weight, pay more attention to everything, make full stops at the STOP sign, consciously short-circuit some of my nervous ticks. Others are shaped by new developments: Bought some origami paper - make a collage masterpiece (I like collages), got a new cookbook - cook a recipe from it at least once a week, my toddler is growing up - play with him more, watch Disney less.
In between there are of course, the impossibles. An impossible is neither a standby nor a new resolution. Impossibles tend to be the leap year dreams that for some reason we yearn to achieve but truly, in our heart of hearts, believe unattainable. They hang unfinished without firm articulation because they exist only in the nebulous of wishfulness and not, in the grounding of reality: Someday I'll write a book, someday I'll go back to feeling like the old me (this goes beyond losing weight), someday I'll achieve all those things that the me who knew how to dream thought she had all the time in the world to get to. Someday...

You will be happy to know that to a certain degree, and thanks to the Christmas Shopping race of all things, today is someday for me. These words do not constitute a book but they are a published writing. I am putting something of myself out there as flawed as it is and in so doing, I have broken out of the impossible into the real. I now pat myself mentally on the back and make yet another resolution. I will continue to write for me and for you but, mostly for me because, in entering into this pact, I chip away at the mental wall of my laziness and inhibitions. This is me. Here I am. Hello.