2017.. let's do it. Easy like Sunday morning, baby.

I am not usually that one who is all ready to go for a new year and making plans and such because I know myself. I know full out that tomorrow morning I'm probably going to be like, "meh... being fat isn't so bad... I'm always warm. There's that." But this year I feel like I have a real obligation to do something with myself and with this year. I think dying twice in 2016 qualifies this as the big "Second Chance" that most don't get and you're supposed to do something profound with. Which stresses me out and kind of makes me feel a little panicky because.. what if I really suck at it? But I've got plans, lambs. Possibly mediocre and lame, but plans nonetheless.

• Complete all 9 weeks of the Dave Ramsey Financial Peace University class with Matt. We're signed up and I'm nervous about it being hard and scary, but we are going to do it. 
• End the year with $1000 in our emergency account. By god, nobody is allowed to die this year. 
• Finish my book. I know, you're like, "FINALLY" and I'm like, "I've got 3 typed pages!" but I'm going to do it. I swear. 
• I'm going to Florida to see family. I don't know how, but it has to happen. I feel a weird urgency about it so I need to make it a priority. 
• I'm going to celebrate turning 35 in March big. I'm not sure how, but by god, it's a milestone for sure. 
• I'm going on a friend vacation. I don't know when/who/what/where, but I am going to leave this house and I'm going to do something I've never done and get on a plane with friends and go somewhere. And do something. And probably eat a lot of ice cream. 

That's it. I have to get creative and work on some of these but I feel like I want to walk out of 2017 saying it was a great year. That it was the best year ever. I can't end 2017 feeling suicidal, scared, depressed, sick, and awful. I just can't.