4 resolutions, 3 slip ups, 2 roommates, and a partridge in a pair tree.

My best friend in the world returned to our little home yesterday. How lovely. And she brought with her another dear friend, my 6'3" 200lb baby brother (also her boyfriend).
Since the last post, I've resolved to make some changes in my life. And while I love these people dearly, to go from 1-3 people in a tiny little basement suit in the same week that I've resolved to:
1. stop swearing
2. stop speeding
3. stop drinking coffee
4. stop drinking after 1 alcoholic beverage

...well, it's hard. I mean when the house is getting a little cramped and we're bumping into each other and bumping into the wobbly shelf and glasses are breaking and headaches are starting, I just want to jump into my car and speed to the closest coffee establishment and calm down.
And when I discover I can no longer do that I want to swear out loud and drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine. But I can't do that either. It's hard.

This is day 3 with no coffee, and I only swore twice. (I had to let out a string of profanities when I burned my finger on the oven, and also when quoting the hilarious Farva in the "I got you good f*cker" scene.) Other than that, I only had 2 drinks yesterday and caught myself speeding once.

So I think I'll survive. In particular because Kristie is the best friend ever - in fact she's organizing our kitchen as I write this. And my little man! He's lovely too; not only did he fix my ghetto internet cord so it no longer clotheslines my guests, he also bought me Deltron 3030 which we listened to while making supper together yesterday.

There's hope for me and my roommates.

So long as God will grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

At the risk of unleashing the demons of irony, how bad could it be?