Hold The Whip

So I saw that some of my fellow bloggers listed out meaningful and thoughtful resolutions for the New Year. I don't really like to make resolutions, because I never follow through with them and then I feel like a loser in March when people are asking me so how's that whole exercise thing going? And then I give them the blank stare and wonder if perhaps they're addressing the person behind me.

So I had to think of it this way: Baby steps. One small resolution, that's not ridiculous like hey I'm going to be nicer to my kids, yell less, and start ironing.... I mean really. And we all know I'm not switching over to brown rice and soy milk. I'll die before I buy organic produce (I hate spending money on food when I could be spending it on accessories), and I'm certainly not going to give up caffeine or anything like that.

But I was thinking, I could make a conscious effort to cut out a few calories in my life, now that I'm facing being 35, and I'm no longer the 98 pound 16 year old that had Mountain Dew and old fashioned doughnuts every day on my way to school for breakfast (see I have evolved). Now it seems calories are actually sort of creeping up on me, slowly, bit by bit, year by year, despite my denial and insistence things fit weird because "I just had a baby," wait, how old is Morgan now? Oh never mind. So here's my resolution folks. When I go to Starbucks, and order my most favoritest drink, a grande Carmel Macchiato with whip, well, from now on, I'm going to sacrifice, and ask them to please, hold the whip.

Sigh. I really like whipped cream. It's so good, but apparently it adds a bunch of calories to the already excessive and unnecessary drink.

So there it is, there's my resolution. If you run into me at the coffee shop and I have a whipped cream mustache, please feel free to confront me and make me feel very small.