Getting in shape is the only one I’ll really chatter about. For X-mas my family is helping me get a YMCA membership because I’m a starving, under employed writer with massive graduate school debt and I can’t pay for it on my own. I told my girlfriend that the plan was to have Ryan Reynolds’ body by the time I turn 40.
She laughed at me. Look, I know it’s not very likely that I’ll get that kind of physique, but at least I can avoid looking like Jack Black (sorry, Jack, I think you’re great but . . .)
Granted, the cape is fabulous, but still.
There are a lot of other resolutions, but I’m trying out this thing where I don’t talk about them.
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