No Goals...

What is it with me and goals? I am an intelligent, adult woman. I set the goals for myself. But mention goal and BOOM! I don't do it. If I set brushing my teeth as a goal, I'd have green fuzzy teeth in a week. What is it?

I eat veggies ALL THE TIME. I love veggies. I especially love veggies in the summer, when they are so pretty and I can get them from my friends' gardens or from the produce stand down the road. I really love eggplant. It is so PURPLE. But have I had a veggie, other than lettuce & tomato on a fake fish sandwich? NO. I didn't even have the fried okra. I write a simple goal: eat well three days this week. I have an entire week without a vegetable. Can you explain this, beyond general orneriness?

I had lots and lots to say last week, but I didn't sit down and write once. Not one time. I wrote a snippet in my red suede IRL journal, and that's it. I LIKE TO WRITE, but make it a goal and it becomes a chore and I'm out of here.

OK, I did read. I finished Labyrinth by Kate Mosse and read Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen and Personal Demon by Kelley Armstrong. All really good books. I have started Jane Eyre, which isn't as bad as I thought it would be. I glanced at the Board book.

I have probably gained 10 lbs, although my lying scale says I haven't. I feel like a beached whale. Someone around me must be on a diet. I always gain weight when people start talking about dieting. Maybe it's that a friend of mine and my daughter-in-law are both being encouraged to gain weight. I'm being a good role model. A good beached whale role model.

This is what I have to say about all of that: No New Goals. For awhile. And I think I'll go eat some pineapple.