What's a Goal Without The Vuvuzelas

Boy have we been on about goals around here.  We're so busy being all up in each others' shit, it's a miracle you haven't seen us on Cops yet.  This year, of course.  You guys saw us featured on that award-winning program last year, right?

Wait - that's not the direction I wanted to go.  I don't wish to get all braggy.  What I mean is that we did try again with the Family Time thing, but it petered out of after the first round of Apples to Apples.  We lack attention span and senses of humor when we come together, it seems.  We also lose our ability to use our inside voices.

So before I even got to tell you about our goal to spend more time together as a family, the goal is blown.  It's only the 5th of the month in which Everything Was Supposed to Change and I'm talking in the past tense already.


Don't assume, though, we don't cling to some of our goals.  I established a word count goal by which I aim to finish this manuscript.  Today I'm liking it.  I'm walking on sunshine and seeing rainbows and unicorns behind every bush.  It's such a refreshing change from my usual state.  I know you can tell because I didn't call it the damn manuscript.  And I am pleased to report that I did write over one thousand words today.  That's in addition to a couple hundred words of a book review, this blog post (fill in number of words here), and the entire Smiths discography listing every song ever recorded by them written out in long hand.  I realize that doesn't count toward my word goal, but it sounds cool anyway.  Shut up, MathMan.  You know it's true.

Now about those weight loss goals....yeah, well.  I'm inching my way toward something.  Lean and fit might be over-reaching, but leaner and fitter?  I'm doing it.  It does feel good, I admit.  Not as in "Oh my lord, I can finally give up sugar entirely!"  But good as in "Well, I can eat five Milk Duds instead of the whole carton in one sitting."  You take your wins where you find them, yo.

See, the trick is that I don't tell you specifically what my goals are.  I don't wish to be that accountable.  Plus I don't want to tell you my weight, for goodness sake.  Regarding my word goal, that's easy.  1,000 words per day until done.

I'm not the only one with goals, though.  Recently MathMan noted that he's struggling to run his intended amount each time we go to the gym.  I, very generously, diagnosed his problem right away.

"You need to set a new goal.  You ran just fine when you were training for that 5k race."  Sentences beginning with the words You need to are always received so warmly around here.  But he knew I was right.

Chloe, having set her own goals for the summer (hint:  earning money so she can afford an iPhone) provided the answer.  She announced that she'd been roped into running a 5k in August.  And so now MathMan has his new goal.  He'll get all obnoxious and gung ho about it and make me feel like a pointless slug because I can't run a 5k, but that's what marriage is all about, right?  You on the upswing, your spouse on the down.  No, that's not quite it.  Mutual disdain?  No.  Humor barely covering up that well-honed contempt bred by too much familiarity?  Now I'm getting warm.

This morning I mentioned to MathMan that I'd concluded that a large part of my weight issues had to do with the fact I use my excess body fat as armor.

"Against what?"  I could tell by his tone he wasn't buying it.

"Lots of things.  You know.  When you're fat you're invisible."

"But you don't want to be invisible  Not really."

I chewed my lip and thought about that.  "In public I do.  Sitting at my computer, I'm fine."

Derisively.  That's the most accurate way to describe how he laughed.  It was close to a snort.

"You're addicted, that's all.  You just need to....."

Go on then, what are you goals?  Do you even bother?  Don't you just love it when someone starts a sentence "You need to.....?"  What are you trigger phrases?

It's a skate key.  It has no further relevance.