Charging the Wrong Guns

Day 36, Thursday February 5, 7.30pm - I've just has a Road to Damascus. Like Captain Nolan did, at Balaclava.
There I was, happily having my 25th green tea and ninth raw carrot of the day while answering emails, and it suddenly came to me.
"Get a life", I'd concluded this morning and in my last post. But I don't need to get a life.
That was my 1999-2006 problem, when I spent most of my time being less than healthy and feeling sorry for myself.
I'm fine now, though. I've got a life. The trouble is, it doesn't work.
What I need - what my family needs, I think - is a life that works.
It was easy before Seven-Year-Old Daughter. Jan and I went to work and that was that.
You don't need to be particularly organised when your life is full of work and bereft of any other content apart from the odd Medoc, late-night film and recuperative holiday.
But now I want all of us to have more time, even at the expense of a fat wallet, those foreign holidays and the latest generation of MP3 players. I want us to concentrate more on where we are now, rather than the commute. I want every day to be a holiday.
So many of us seem to live to work. Gordon Brown can't get enough of the stuff and wants the same puritanism for us.
I'm happy to work, but it's the living part I'm really after.
I want to halt this Charge of the Light Brigade and reconsider. I think I may be hurtling in the wrong direction.
What has this got to do with New Year resolutions? Well, they're the bits that I like about my life, I suppose.
I thought this TRSNYRC lark was a blogging game but perhaps it's more than that.
As from today, I'm on holiday. I'm turning around. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a battery of Russian guns even if I did manage to capture them.