I can accomplish all of this

Wildcat File Photo Arizona Daily Wildcat Nancy A. Knox with Kelly Knox

It is time to make personal vows to oneself akin to New Year's resolutions, except we intend to really keep them. I simplified and categorized mine into four neat compartments. I vow to be the ultimate honors student, the most involved mother, a caring inhabitant of our planet and (one strictly for pleasure) the quintessential love-goddess in my relationship. I will be a Madame Bovary in the classroom, a Martha Stewart in my home and a Sharon Stone in the bedroom. I can't think of any famous environmentalist, but I am going to be like her, whoever she is.

I am certain I can accomplish all of this, but I decided to keep a running journal of sorts to keep me honest. Here is how I fared the first week.

MONDAY: Got up early, washed and ironed kids' school uniforms, made pancakes, checked homework, sent them off to school, took the dog for a walk and went to class.

Was on time to every class (no mere feat for a woman whose concept of time is purely relative), offered pertinent questions, gathered my syllabuses (syllabi?), rode bike to every location, listed all important events, like midterms, paper due dates and finals, in planner. Came home, cooked lasagna, did homework with all four kids, read first assignments of everything, went to bed and made mad, passionate love to husband.

TUESDAY: Washer got stolen (true story) with clothes still in it. Ran a load of school uniforms over to neighboring apartment complex, managed to wash and dry them, tried to iron them while kids were putting them on (ouch), vowed to never try that again, handed out bagels, asked if they had their homework, and departed for class.

Still made it to every one on time, did all the reading, answered a question or two, was happy as hell when the bell finally rang. Grabbed first of many "university-issue" Pepsis, rode bike home, let dog walk with me to Dumpster several times, cleaned house and read e-mail.

Planned nothing for dinner, sent two youngest daughters to fetch big "whatevers," thanks to cool coupons given out at bookstore.

Did kid homework, did my homework, fell into bed and passed out on top of husband.

WEDNESDAY: Washed kids' clothes out in the sink, assured them they would dry on the way to school, drank coffee till awake enough to ride bike and went to class.

Nearly killed by trucker, determined to get to the next chicken-fried steak before all other truckers in the world. Vowed to finally make that will.

Made it to honors seminar in time to hear professor state he cannot tolerate tardiness. Crawled into the back of room, answered no questions, made mental note of his disdain for people with chronic tardiness syndrome like myself. Rode home, tripped over dog, threw on some mac&cheese (did add frozen peas for that Martha Stewart thing), helped kids with homework. Studied as long possible and lapsed into coma.

THURSDAY: Used Wite·Out on kids' stained shirts, chewed some coffee grounds and rode to class. Made it five minutes late and climbed over 20 people to get to only empty seat.

Stared at a guy so beautiful he made my eyes hurt, contemplated marrying my daughter off to him, remembered where I was, rejoiced when bell rang, threw cold water on myself and rode home.

Daydreamed about catching up on sex with husband over Thanksgiving break, made "leftover mania" for dinner out of everything about to rot in fridge, had mass homework session and fell asleep with book in lap, on couch.

FRIDAY: Far too tired, apathetic and rushed to keep track. Let's just say I lived to do my two 12-hour shifts at work Saturday and Sunday.

How many more weeks are left in the school semester?

Nancy A. Knox is a sociology and political science senior and can be reached via e-mail at Nancy.A.Knox@wildcat.arizona.edu.