Opinion: Katniss Everdeen? Not yet
It’s time for my quarterly New Year’s Resolutions check-in, people, where I evaluate my progress towards fulfilling my goals for 2014. You may recall I am attempting to become Hunger-Games worthy. I want to achieve ripped arms and crock-pot expertise, in addition to learning how to hunt, shoot and power whistle. Unfortunately, I’m not progressing as quickly as I’d hoped.
For instance, every time I practice obnoxious catcalling, I nearly pass out. This does not play well while I’m navigating the construction on 31 in my minivan. So I’ve had to limit my sessions to those rare moments when I am not driving to dance, tumbling, soccer, track, tae kwon do, jazz band or volleyball. Given that whistling lies on one of the lowest rungs of my daily to-do ladder (somewhere between scrubbing toilets and shop-vacing air vents), I’d estimate I devote about thirty seconds every three weeks to mastering this annoyingly-difficult trick.
Cooking my way through “Crock-Pots & You” has also proved challenging. For one thing, most of the dishes take only four hours. If I throw all the ingredients in before I leave for work in the morning, by five o’clock that evening, the meal – though savory – is essentially mush. This is fine if I’m trying for soup, but not so good if I want a Parmesan Crusted Chicken. Nevertheless, as my commitment to cutting Box Tops approaches full-on addiction (I love finding them on every high-sodium, preservative-laden box of food I serve), I’ve decided to keep the crock-potting. Next up, Meatball Madness!
Hunting is on hold until the fall when it becomes legal again to fire weapons at deer. So technically I’m still on course to meet that goal. I’d like to say the same for the handgun, but my only excuse for not learning to shoot is pure laziness. I’ve located a range that offers classes, and I’ve even convinced my mother-in-law to come along for the ride, but I have yet to . . . well . . . pull the trigger. Damn, I’m funny! (Cussing less is not one of my promises.)
As for doing twenty “real” push-ups, I’m feeling confident. In fact, I could probably drop and give you eleven right now if I weren’t so light-headed from some recent whistling practice. With warm weather approaching, however, I’m highly motivated to meet this declaration. At least more motivated than I am to slow-cook Knockwurst Surprise.
Hope your New Year’s resolutions are going better than mine are! Peace out.