Walking around with your head in the clouds makes no sense at all.

Christmas has come and gone. January always leaves me feeling weird. I'm never quite sure what I'm supposed to be doing with myself. I'm always left in that awkward stage of indecision where I feel I should be on the cusp of changing my life but I have no idea how I should even begin to do this or even if I'm arsed. I thought about belly dancing after I watched Shakira shaking her arse around in Waka Waka but really the thought of even breaking a sweat scares me to death, plus the only time I enjoy dancing is when I'm loaded up on JD. Oh but how I wish I had hips movable like that even if it means removing several bones from my body. Then I thought id write a book, OK by this point I admit I was slightly delusional, so I googled the matter and it held all the worn down secrets writers pass from one to another, write about what you know yada yada. So I know asolutely nothing. Case closed. The curtain has come down on that one. Then I thought about getting rich, fleetingly, but stamped that one in the dust when I realised one has to spend money to make it. So I'm going to start 2011 with the intention of somehow someway stumbling upon my passion, my raison d'etre. And if I don't then I don't really give a shit because this time next year il raise my glass to the same toast, the same resolutions and the same worn down promises so maybe the best thing to do is see where 2011 takes me.