New Year’s list…

My paper tablet is waiting, staring at me blankly from my dining room table. What would make this moment better… a nice cup of steaming hot cocoa with a dollop of whipped cream? I could use my new jumbo-sized mug that I received as a gift.

Better yet, a couple of those really good double-chocolate, iced cookies. It would really be a sin to waste them, especially as list-making is so exhausting. Wouldn’t it be better for my health if I keep my blood sugar up? I have my old list in hand and I’m getting ready to start… in a moment. Maybe one more bite of cookie will help me to focus.

I think that, this year, my list will start with all of the nice things I accomplished last year. Sort of like a pre-2007 pep talk to myself. One more hit of cocoa with a cookie chaser and I have a nice little chocolate buzz going on.

Oh, who am I kidding? Anyone who knows me knows I’m not a woman who is all that organized. No way! Worse yet, I’m procrastinating about being disorganized.

This is Diane Butler’s way of putting off stepping on that darn bathroom scale. That shiny computerized scale that I was stupid enough to believe would keep me inspired throughout the year; that must-have gift from last season; that miserable state-of-the-art, large-numbered, high-tech, mechanical nightmare that can sense when I enter the room. It knows that I’m over my goal weight and seems now to have a life and voice of its own.

Okay, I admit that I have tried to cheat on it in the past. I’ve tried to shift my weight a little bit to the side. It just seemed to know I wanted a lighter reading. It would just get me back by flashing its large beady black numbers and then wildly spinning them, like some sort of crazed beast. Just when you think that you have a shot at being in the correct weight zone, a loud “over limit, over limit,” voice emerges.

What kind of mad scientist would put sound in a scale? What kind of person would buy one? Oh, wait, that would be me.

Well, I’m a survivor, so I did what I could to survive the cookie season. I dropped a towel over the scale some time after Thanksgiving dinner; didn’t move the darn thing at all during the entire holiday season. I’m sort of afraid to now. I don’t know what its little computer chip will say to me when I take the towel off, but it’s bound to be mad.

I know what to do. I’ll just have one last bite of cookie and not take off that towel or make my resolution list or even acknowledge 2007 until I take off some 2006 cookie fat.

How’s that for procrastination!

- Diane Butler