If wasn't who I have become ...

... I'd live by myself in a city-centre flat
... I'd still ride a motorbike
... I'd get up at noon
... I'd go to bed at 4 am
... I'd be very untidy
... I'd need to grow up
... I'd have every playstation and xbox going
... I'd be a borderline alcoholic
... I'd play poker every day
... I'd earn money only when I needed some
... I'd not have any proper close friends

... I'd be emotionally shallow
... I'd be desperate for a partner but wouldn't admit it
... I'd be the oldest bloke in the club on Friday nights
... I'd dream about my own kids to cuddle and love me

... I'd be even mentaller (? spelling) than I am now

So: it's not all bad, life, is it?

You've only got four thousand weeks. Four thousand weeks is less than eighty years. I've had half mine already.

Two thousand weeks doesn't sound very long, does it?

Best get on with it. Especially if you don't believe in an afterlife, as I don't.

So I will:

... push to get properly fit
... push the limits when I am skiing, and not just dwell in the intermediate
... remember to thank my wife every day for saving me from myself
... not shout at the kids for stuff that doesn't matter
... stop talking about it and learn to kitesurf next summer
... be less bah-humbug about Christmas
... play the piano more
... take a sketchbook out with me more often, and draw a wider variety of subjects
... use all the methods I have been taught to manage my depression
... go to bed at a sensible time and stop sleeping in the day.

Good.

I can manage that.

Wish me luck.

Oh, and sorry for doing the resolutions thing before we've even got to Christmas.