You're called Suck

Well it's official. I am a failure. I suppose it's not so bad. In fact there is really not much difference between this week and the week before when I wasn't quite yet a bona fide failure. I still get to enjoy life's simple pleasures like a soft cool pillow, a laugh with good friends and Propel. But still, the fact that I couldn't even stick to my laughably simple New Year's Resolutions feels like a slap in the face from my shamed conscience.
It was simple, two goals: don't kill any plants not marked for death and don't have any run-ins with the police. Seven months in and those intentions are dead. So to be fair, I actually did get pulled over a few months back. Call it convenient rationale, but I didn't count it because I felt a) I didn't deserve the ticket and b) the cops were stupid stupid stupid. Since I drive a sometimes shiny red car with sports suspension I feel like I deserved a break or a freebie, if you will, given the fact I am a natural target to law enforcement. So I ignored that one. Well two days ago I got nailed on 900 W. charged with failure to yield (apparently a pedestrian was waiting to cross) and expired tags. Cool. Then to add insult to injury, I bought a lovely and stunning lily this month, named it Sheila, planted it in the front yard, and then it promptly died. So I got nothin' going for me. I mean the year is just half way over. Maybe it's appropriate to make half-year resolutions...maybe not as hard as the original ones. I vow to drink a glass of water every day and maintain a pulse. Good day.