No resolve.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep — even if it’s just a promise to yourself.

2008 started like every other year — a kiss from my husband and a promise to myself not to make any promises.

Thus begins the internal, eternal tug-og-war.

If I’d been listening to the TV at all, I’d have signed up for a new diet and started exercising. Valerie Bertinelli almost had me in tears ready to call Jenny Craig. I could almost see myself flopped over a large rubber ball flexing and extending in quest of the perfect abs. Almost, but not quite.

Instead, I nibbled on a couple more pieces of Christmas candy and counted the steps to the basement laundry and back up stairs to put away the laundry.

Okay, quit nagging — I’ll work at being a healthier person — all around. I’ll eat better — but I refuse to diet. I’ll try to move more — but don’t say “exercise.” (Yeah, I know, I’m not getting any younger, but I don’t need one more thing to feel guilty about.) One step at a time, here, please.

Invigorated by the prospects of a new year, I allowed myself to contemplate the benefits of healthier living. I didn’t make any promises; but I took the suggestions of Valerie under advisement.

I abide by the theory of “the best laid plans” — yep, they almost always go awry. We can chart a general course — nothing exact or too specific. Healthier, that’s the buzzword. This way I won’t break any resolutions.

Oh, don’t start preaching about goals.

My 10-day quest for a healthier lifestyle has been zapped by my first cold in years. Oh, I felt it coming on. A tickle in my throat, a stuffy nose. Now, I’m miserable. Yeah, you’re right, I’m whiny and cranky, too.

The voice is husky like Brenda Vaccarro but the head is big like Ernest Borgnine — do you know what I mean?

I may sound sexy but I don’t feel sexy. I know my red nose lacks any real sex appeal.

I’m craving hot tea with lemon and honey. Where’s the Kleenex box? I can’t breathe through my nose. Ugh, this is miserable.

I ought to try my grandpa’s remedy — a spoonful of blackberry brandy and a nap. Who’s got time for a nap?

I’m not really good at being sick. I honestly don’t recall my last cold. I’m a Mom; I’m generally healthy as a horse —whatever that expression means. Frankly, I couldn’t tell if a horse was sick or not.

Do you suppose if I had just promised myself to exercise and diet, I could have warded off the cold bug? Just by the power of healthy thinking?

Is this God punishing me for being lazy, for lying to myself?

Is this my body rebelling against me for not taking care of myself?

In my weakened physical (and mental) state, I’ve relented. I need to make a change here.

I do hereby promise to take better care of myself — mind and body. I’ll eat better, I’ll exercise more, I’ll challenge my brain and my spirit. I’ll improve myself in 2008.

This cold medicine isn’t clearing my head; it’s fogging my brain. It is 2008, right?

Happy New Year.