Waving Not Drowning

Kate's the kinda girl that wants to be resolved. She makes plans, writes resolutions, uses all caps all the time and emoticons inappropriately. Anything to create shape and direction in her life. She does this at the beginning of every new year like clockwork. It never pans out. The best laid plans, blah blah blabbity blah. This year she's starting early. She's got a whole week. More than enough time to manifest a life changing program which will culminate in a grand celebration on New Year's Eve. She'll gather up some gal pals, build a beach side bonfire; they'll drown themselves in stories of what once was, lay out dreams of what will be. Consume copious amounts of the home made Baileys she has no business drinking, all the while committing themselves to brand-spanking new vows to Make Things Happen. Time to shake out the old, ring in the new, wipe the slate clean. Tabula rasa. Just like last year. And the year before that. And so on and so forth and ...

Thirteen bottles and six cans at five cents each gives Val ninety five cents. One more and she's got a buck, enough for an apple and three caramels from the penny candy jar. Why it's still called penny candy baffles Val. She even argued the point with Mrs. Han one day saying it was false advertising. Paying ten cents for a piece of candy labeled a penny is highway robbery. Not to mention a cruel tease. But Val shut up when Mrs. Han threatened to ban her from her store. Since its the only depanneur that still sells candy by the piece and carries bananas and green apples, Val backed off. She should check the back garbage can on the football field at recess, see if some of the high school kids or maintenance guys threw away their bottles. They're always drinking those expensive rainbow coloured sport drinks, chugging them back like water. Their stupidity, paying four dollars for something you can get for free from the tap. Grab an apple and a few caramels and voila, energy and...

Mornings are Ali's best time of day. She's clear and focused, energized and ready. The hour before she falls asleep is dynamite. Ali makes lists, dreams grand schemes, makes promises to herself that when she wakes up she will make monumental progress, seize the day, completely explode with productivity. She is omnipotent two whole hours of the day. One hundred and twenty minutes, give or take. If she lingers in bed too long, haphazardly hitting the snooze alarm for the fourth time, it's over. She's done for the day. There goes the morning window of pure awesome. At this point Ali thinks why bother, she's passed her peak, missed the moment, blown her shot at carpe'ing the diem. She just needs a minute. Or 40. She waffles and wavers, slowly rolling into first gear. By noon she'll kick it into second. Third if it's sunny outside. After caffeine and sugar and copious cat memes and celebrity eye candy on the internet her tidal waves shift. Around three pm she...