Not one for succumbing to resolutions and the like, I do recognise that there are a number of tasks that I should include in my to do list for 2013. Some of these are routine, “just fucking get it sorted” sort of chores, others are slightly more aspirational, some are unachievable, but God loves a trier (or at least somebody who recognises their chronic failings).

So, here we go:

Money
I’m shit at personal finance, so my job for this year is to get it under control. Stop being overdrawn, reduce my credit card bill. No gadgets, no holidays. This is not the age of Aquarius, this is the age of austerity… or put another way, living within your means… you know, like your mum and dad did, like normal people do. It shouldn’t be difficult unless you’re a complete fucking numpty. Plan a budget and stick to it.

Health
Pfffft. Bloody health. I suppose discipline in the first point in my task list will help towards this. Planning healthy meals is far better than the ad hoc nature of my diet over the past year. I suppose I could relate to 2012 as my “pasta” year. How difficult is it to buy some vegetables, bits of fruit and some meat and plan some meals? For somebody like me, who needs to have their meals planned for a week in advance, I’m so surprised that I don’t do this anyway. Of course, there’s the eating alone factor, but that’s a pathetic excuse when you’ve got a freezer and enough tupperware to fill two cupboards.

Of course I need to exercise more, but I need a little more of CBT Tina to take over for that to start happening.

Home

Talent
I’m a talented person. Oh yes I am. I used to play classical guitar, dontcha know! I need to relearn this skill. It’s slightly depressing that the fingers of my adult left hand are utterly pathetic compared to the same digits when I was fifteen, but determination and practise should get me to a level where I could at least do a “Cum bye ya, me lord”.

I also need to learn to juggle. Just so as I can annoy people more than anything.

OK, this talent thing has come to the forefront of my conscious mind because a good friend’s 50th birthday is coming up at the end of the year. There will be a party, and at that party I want to be able to do something that she and others will appreciate. Ideally, I’d love to be able to take over a piano and wow the guests with a fabulous rendition of fucking awesome whatever piano playing makes people happy. I’d never be a Winifred Atwell, and Tori Amos’s Cornflake Girl is way beyond most people’s ambitions, but surely My Baby Just Cares For Me can’t be too difficult… if you’re Nina Simone.

Thinking about things, I may just have to construct a witty monologue praising the guest of honour. I’ve got twelve eleven months. No pressure.

Now, what did I do with those juggling balls?