So sick. How could someone consuming as many nutrients as I have lately be sick? Fuck. So now that my body has said 'Ha! Stay still for a bit, bitch!' my brain has time to think about New Year's Resolutions.

1. Learn how to read sheet music properly. God, I'm dumb. How could I have studied music for so long as a child, albeit with a huge amount of resistance, and not learnt how to read music properly? Fucking hell. Which reminds me of resolution 2.

2. Cease to beat myself up over all the dumb, dumb things I've done. They're done and I have to deal with them, like some sort of natural disaster. A retardanami. A volcanic retarduption. Also me beating myself up over the dumb, dumb things is probably a psychological cause of the necessity for resolution 3.

3. Stop imagining all the men I think about in a naked way will turn out crazy. It's statistically likely they won't, right? I doubt I'll ever slip my sunny slut shoes back on (without moving back to Italy and re-thinking my attitude to cocaine) but I should really be less, what's the word? Frigid? Misandrist? Cowardly? Think of them as real people with their own hopes and dreams and all that instead of the mindless agents of entropy and disequilibrium. And then nail them.

All other resolutions like murderizing France, dropping weight, bleaching my teeth, learning Arabic, and becoming a professional crimefighter will have to wait for a resolution-making season when I'm feeling less realistic and more physically fit.