Dear New Year, I Don't Like You.

Here's why:

1. I have to constantly remind myself to write "2011" on checks, notes, letters, etc. Inevitably, I'll forget on something random and embarrass myself.

2. Your presence reminds me that I can no longer live as I have the past two weeks. No cookies at midnight. No laying on my bum, free from cramped muscles and sweaty pits due to excessive toning exercises. And, most importantly, no soda. Harsh, New Year, really harsh.

3. You impose guilt and feign hope. I mean, what are you? The ghosts of New Year's past, present, and future all rolled into one cruel witch?

4. What exactly is "new" about you, other than the last digit? I suppose new things can happen...dreams, wishes, love, blah, blah, blah. Maybe there are "tiny" tweaks that technically qualify as "new." It just seems like one year rolls into the other where nothing ever truly changes, at least not for the better...it's just more of the same crappity-crap packaged in fancy new gift wrap. 

And, dear blogging friends, you should totally ignore all of the negativity, for it comes from the mind of a single with serious soda withdrawal.

I. Want. My. Caffeine...that sugary, high fructose, fat-cells-in-a-can goodness.

Water is such an overrated goody-goody.