Flip through the latest issue of Gulf Weekly.
I have a lovely niece who is positive, happy and inspirational. She achieves more goals in a month than Ronaldo scores in a year, and she recently recommended a book: 52 Mondays: The One Year Path To Outrageous Success & Lifelong Happiness.
Just the title makes me groan but it’s free on Amazon so I decided, with New Year resolutions in mind, that I should read it.
I pressed buy and download but it hasn’t appeared on my Kindle and I think that’s a sign. New Year resolutions are not one of my strengths and perhaps I should rethink my approach.
In an effort to get ahead, I’ve decided to skip the
resolution stage and go straight to my end of 2014 list of failures and excuses. It’s long so this is the abridged version:
1. Didn’t read the book about what I ought to have achieved
in the past year. (I tried. You’re my witnesses).
2. Didn’t finish writing my novel because I got distracted
by the links on the dictionary website that led to terrifying but compulsive images of celebrity plastic surgery disasters. (But I also followed the links to pictures of former child stars that made me happy that I hadn’t let my son audition for Harry Potter.)
3. Didn’t buy a new non-virtual dictionary that would have
taken away my excuse to be online while writing. (I’d still be feeling guilty about that Harry Potter audition and I really don’t think that I’ll ever need to look up ‘selfie’).
4. Didn’t sort out the cupboard of photographs even though
my son is 23 and his baby photos should be in albums. (I’d have shown them to his girlfriend. It’s better this way).
That was cathartic. I’ve achieved so much already. I must thank my niece for recommending that book.
