New Year promises to myself I'm unlikely to keep or care about in a month's time.

Cute, schmaltzy and Instagrammable - why in the hell not?

That's that for another year...or at least it should be.

I had every intention of taking down the not-entirely-comprehensive Christmas decorations in my flat tonight after work but so far have managed to do some laundry, cook a weird dinner from cupboard and freezer ingredients and watch three episodes of the latest box set obsession. 

Ah well, there's always tomorrow. 

Although, given that it's the twelfth night of Christmas, I really do need to get a wiggle on tomorrow. 

Yes, it *is* twelfth night tomorrow, because Christmas Day is the first day of Christmas. Google it. 

If on doing this you find an alternative opinion feel free to have a party in your pants in front of your computer and not tell me about it until I've gotten off my butt and put away my decorations. 

So, what's this little blog about? Honestly, I have no idea as yet - let's go with the flow. Sure, shall we start with some resolutions which will last for God knows how long, but less than the year?

First resolution: have two blokes fighting over me and breaking a table in a friendly but casual Greek / Indian restaurant. The latter being much more prevalent in my neck of the woods I'm hedging my bets.

This is unlikely to be a lifestyle blog because my task for 2016 is essentially to sort my life out a bit from where it's at now. Not to be too Bridget Jones about it all, but I've just had my 32nd Christmas (minus the turkey curry and skipping the Christmas jumpers despite the general glee over them persisting) and assessing the life of love, it's a bit glum to be frank. 

I'm single, a firm advocate of giant knickers and sadly missing either my Mark Darcy or frankly even a Daniel Cleaver. Strike that - I'd settle for a bloody Fitzherbert Titspervert about now.  

However, since by nature I am not one of those ladies whose sense of self worth stems from solely from a chap - so I guess this resolution really comes down to being "open to love". Shoot. Me. Now. I've become the weirdo conference lady in Sex and the City or worse - Charlotte. 

Second resolution: parlez-vous français?

I've been saying for ages that I want to learn to speak French - partially for work, partially because it's just so damn lovely a language. I've downloaded an app, uploaded a French speaking CD and started. Now let's see if this course makes it out of the box (and keeps crack-a-lacking throughout the year!)

Third resolution: try to control my inner rage.  Or try. 

Last year was a bit wearing. Work was busy, I'm aiming for promotion and we had a ton of people leave. Not all of those were bad, but at the same time the pressure was on a bit. As a result my energy, interest and patience reserves have been tested if not depleted. At times it feels in work as if I'm back in the playground with cliques, gangs and silent wars of attrition being waged between the groups. 

In all honesty I did not make things better as much as I could have. So I'll be trying again in 2016. Today was the first working day. Evaluation: Could have gone better. 

I mean, I didn't pitch a total shit fit, so I guess it could have gone worse, too. Cold consolation. 

Right kiddos - let's get on with a year of self-improvement, rage control and boys fighting over my lovely, bubbly, jiggly ass(ets)!

Wish me well, wish me ill - whatevs, still going to try my best for at least the next five minutes.