Ozzie Dies

I've decided on a mercy killing for Ozzie, the festering menace that has replaced my abdominal muscles. I'm going to take him out back and splatter his guts all over the pavement. Graphic, I know, but entirely necessary. Here's to New Year's resolutions in April. I'm committed (at least in my mind) to drinking less, making better decisions regarding food intake, and devoting more time to outdoor activity. I never fully grasped the significance of January 1st as the day that one would make life changes. Why not April 23rd? The date is just as arbitrary. I'm not really a work-out maniac, but I'm obsessed with the notion of making changes in my lifestyle and seeing the results, even if only temporary. I'm not stout or even portly and I do not stare at my furry body in the mirror and imagine a reflection that would make a young Arnold Schwarzenegger weep. While I do have an obsessive personality, body and image is a topic that I willfully ignore. My primary concern is the result, and beyond that, knowing that I'm capable of making a change. I find that notion particularly empowering and motivating.