Cramming an entire telecourse into one week is stupid. Taking five tests in two days is also stupid. Ignoring a faint sore throat and avoiding sleep to study for hours on end is a good way to possibly pass and definitely get sick.

I sit here with a tissue shoved in each nostril, a glass of chocolate milk before me (picture was taken last night, when I was rockin' the tea thing), and a tiny white pill in the bottom of my tummy. I hear the pill will stop the sniffles and the headache, and oh, that is music to my clogged ears.

Soon and very soon, I hope to fall asleep and never go to class again. Never go to work again. Never leave bed again. I will acquire some hired help and spend the rest of my days alternating between watching Lord of the Rings, drinking beverages through swirly straws, feasting upon pizza and chocolate and ice cream (and Oreos!), and dreaming my life away. I'm sure there's a way to get the internet to fund that for me, right? Right. Sweet. More pillows, Nigel.

We have two sizes of drinking glasses at my house. I'm normally extremely loyal to the tall, skinny glasses, since they hold more liquid. I don't know if I'm so thirsty because I'm too lazy to eat, or if I'm so lazy because I'm so dehydrated. Regardless, we can all agree that the fewer trips needed for refills, the better.

But tonight, I went to pour the remainder of the New Year's Eve sparkling white grape juice into a glass. Only a pitiful amount was left, and I knew it would look even more pathetic in a tall glass. So in a bold move, I chose to fill a short, squatty glass with the remainder of the juice, trying to avoid the "is this half full or half empty?" conversation with the cat sitting on my foot.

I distracted myself by staring into the liquid, at which point I noticed that the majority of its "sparkle" had gone the way of 2008. However, the remaining fizz still allowed me to pretend that I was drinking a classy, alcoholic beverage instead of a glorified kindergarten staple. (If I'm being honest, that's one of my favorite parts of sparkling white grape juice and the main reason I chugged it straight from the bottle through most of 2007.) While I was thinking of alcohol, I noticed that the short, squatty glass in my hand could be mistaken for a very distant cousin of a traditional whiskey glass. I mean, one would probably have to be relatively smashed to make such a mistake, but there's still a chance that it could happen.

All this to say, I have spent the entire evening drinking apple juice from a short, squatty glass (oh my gosh, could I find another word for "glass" yet?) and pretending to be relaxed and charming because of it. Please tell me you did something cooler with your Saturday night.

My Dear 2009,

You already smell so fresh and promising, like clean sheets and autumn breezes and other things often found in laundry commercials. We've started off nicely, with an organized closet and clean clothes and a shower and shaved legs (in the middle of winter!) and healthy foods. On the other hand, I sense that this dreamy romance of ours could be rather short-lived, since unpleasant circumstances and responsibilities are piling up at work and school. I am skeptical, 2009. I have been burned before, and I'd rather not have that happen again.

That said, let's get around to laying down the ground rules. Play close attention, or you too will end up in eternal time-out.

Rule #1: Since it seems that I can't get through a year without a Hell Week, let me once again limit the number of Hell Weeks allowed to one (1) per year. The tradition is that these things occur some time in the Spring, but I beg of you not to throw anything nasty at me during finals, mmk? I'd like to graduate before I'm forty, so I can't risk failing my exams because of your poor timing on the Hell Week thing.

Rule #2: Again, consider it one of your main goals to rock my socks off. I finally organized my sock drawer last week, so you can even rock matching pairs of socks from my feet. Sounds fun, huh? Well, trust me, it is. Let's get started on this part right away.

Rule #3: Take care of my friends and family. 2008 received a grade of EPIC FAIL on this rule, and I will cut you if you follow that same path. There are some really nifty people in my life, both online and off, and I have no desire to see them cry. Pirates are no good at comforting people in distress or at curing cancer, so just play nice.

Last year, I had the crazy goals of blogging daily and exercising daily. I failed at both, but I did blog more in 2008 than in any other year. (Maybe. I didn't actually verify that. Just pretend.) So in 2009, I'd like to commit to blogging and exercising three to five times per week. That seems reasonable, and it will hopefully help me to feel guilty less often. Pirates are no good at feeling guilty.

Anyway, 2009, you have your rules. Obey them, and I will give you a pot of gold, a kiss on the mouth, and a partridge in a pear tree. (Pirates are definitely good at kissing.)

God bless, my sweet 2009, and best wishes to all who will be enduring it with me.

Happy New Year!