The dog days are over.

I stopped believing in making New Year’s resolutions awhile back.

Hopes and dreams and intentions are ever present at the beginning of each year, sure. Especially as I begin 2012.

Resolution? Something about that word holds me back, creating a feeling of setting myself up for failure.

A few things would please me:

• Reading another 40 books this year like I did in 2011. (It might be more difficult, I picked some long and wordy classics to tackle this year.)
• Playing fantasy football next season. (People tell me I might be good at this based on weekly picks and constant Twitter commentary during the season.)
• Completing a Flickr 365 (wait, leap year!, 366) project. (Bought that DSLR last May and have not taken nearly enough photos with it.)
• Maintaining weight and A1C at a level that makes me (and my endocrinologist) happy. This entails more exercise and more carb counting than I did in the last couple months of 2011, but not a huge undertaking.

Most of all, though, I want to acknowledge that happiness is finding its way to me. Yeah, 2011 ended sadly for me after an uplift felt throughout December. It is, however, so difficult to look longingly at the stuff that sucks when there is so much promise for the good stuff to find me this year.