As 2008 began, a lot of us made resolutions that we truly hope to keep. Aside from the typical, "I will lose 10 pounds," my resolutions have more to do with my emotional well-being.

I will not put so much pressure on myself.

I will not live by a schedule — I will be less anal retentive.

I will be more aware of the things I say and how they can be interpreted.

I will stop telling people how fat I am and how much weight I gained.

I will continue to think positively and I will continue to be open-minded.

I will be true to myself.

I will take a deep breath when I start to feel anxious and learn to appreciate being single.

I will add more culture to my life and spend less time shopping.

I will learn to stay in on a weekend to unwind and catch up on "me" time rather than partying till all hours of the night.

I will learn to call it a night before 4 a.m. on a weekend.

I will not send drunk text messages to guys.

I will start to save money again.

I will use my divorce as a template for all the things I know I can't live without in a relationship.

I will remember that people are who they are and for the most part will not change.

I will not stress out if someone does not call when they say they will.

I will stop comparing people to Steve and instead focus on what I am looking for.

I will stay positive.

I won't sweat the small stuff.

I recently read an article in "Page Six" magazine that described the amount of pills New Yorkers take on a daily basis. The list goes on and on and incorporates Ambien, Klonopin, Paxil, Percocet, Ritalin, Valium, Vicodin and Valium — just to name a few. It seems that everyone has a reason why they "need" their drug of choice and somehow convince their doctors to write a prescription.

I wonder if a study has been done to determine how many of these people are in the midst of a divorce and are new "pill poppers". I can admit that my pill-popping has increased. I rarely took a Tylenol or an Advil unless I was in excruciating pain.

Now, although I would definitely would not consider myself to be a pill-popper, I've been know to pop an Ambien to help me sleep. I'm on a prescription of Doxycycline for my skin due to stress, I've been taking more Advil than for my headaches, vitamins to balance out my immune system, Zantac for my heartburn. I've been offered Zanax and Valium by half a dozen friends, and still have them wrapped in little tissues in my drawer just in case I decide I "need" them.

It's easy to find a doctor to write a prescription and it's even easier to have a friend who convinced their doctor to give them pills that they decide to share with their friends. It seems like we're all self-medicating to try to push the pain away from different parts of our bodies or our minds.

How many men do you know that have taken Viagra just because? How many people pop a Xanax before they board a plane? Half of my friends are on Prozac and I certainly don't think there is anything really wrong with them. Even illegal drugs are used to self-medicate — marijuana to ease the tension of a rough day, cocaine to help you stay awake. Everyone is becoming hypochondriacs. Nobody has to really face their issues — all they have to do is pop a pill.

What would have been my second anniversary has just past, thankfully. I decided to take the day off from work since I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate and spent the most amazing day by myself — at the spa! I treated myself to a full body scrub, followed by a facial, and finished it off with a massage.

It was wonderful. My phone was locked away in the lounge and I was out of touch for hours. I wasn't sad like I thought I'd be and I wasn't depressed like other people thought I'd be.

After my day of pampering, I went for dinner with a close childhood friend who was in town for the weekend. We reminisced and told stories and laughed. We talked about how our lives didn't turn out the way we'd thought they would and we agreed that it didn't matter because we were both happy and healthy!

Although it hasn't been a full year yet since my separation or divorce, it was the last real "first" I had to make it through. I've done holidays alone. I've done babies and weddings and birthdays alone — and now I've made it through my first anniversary without Steve.

I thought it would be more painful than it was. I guess I know in my heart that I needed to let go. I had a few weeks where I finally accepted that I was angry and now it's time to let it go. I have the rest of my life to experience "firsts" that will be of wonderful things, not things that remind me of Steve or how my life was with him.

I will have plenty of "firsts" and the memories that go along with them that will last a lifetime. And those will be even more meaningful.

I'm overworked and underslept. I toss and turn and lie awake for hours. It's 2 a.m.and I'm still awake. It seems to be a pattern for me. Deep down, I know the reasons. I'm constantly on a schedule and I feel like I am failing myself.

I've tried so hard to stop. I meet the wrong people, I have a high stress job, and I can't seem to lose the extra weight that I put on — and I've never been on a diet in my life before until recently.

I don't want to go to sleep because I don't want to wake up and feel like a failure one more day. It's like Groundhog Day for me. I wake up looking like I got run over by a truck and drag myself to work. I love my job, but it's intense.

I get home late after a long day at the office, class, or a workout when I have time. I catch up on my personal life and attempt to go to bed. And then it happens again — I can't sleep. Is this what I should expect for the rest of my life?

Why do I set such high expectations for myself? Have I over-promised and under-delivered? My fairy tale ended and there was no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Maybe we need to stop thinking that every story is supposed to have a happy ending. Maybe we need to stop telling ourselves that there is such thing as Prince Charming. Maybe we need to stop thinking that things should be a certain way. Or maybe we just need to realize that we are the masters of our own destiny. Maybe our happily ever after is going to be different than what we expected.

And just maybe that's not so bad.

He waved, I waved, and then he walked over to the treadmill to run while I continued to work out. I figured he'd at least come over and say hello, considering he left my hotel room 36 hours before.

Maybe he didn't want to interrupt me. Maybe I caught him off guard. Maybe he had a bad day at work and just wanted to sweat it out. We both work in finance, and market conditions have been tense, so anything could be possible.

I didn't look my best, but I definitely didn't look terrible enough for him to think "Hmmm, that's not what she looked like in a dress." I mean he did see me without makeup when he stayed over!

I don't know if I'm upset. I personally hate talking to people at the gym, since it extends my time there way too much.

My friends have different opinions. Some say that if he was really interested, he would've come over. Others say they hate talking to people at the gym, so they don't blame him. The rest say it could be either of those, plus a million others.

I thought we had a fun time together. We definitely had great chemistry, and I know he was attracted to me even after he knew he wasn't getting in my pants that night.

Sometimes, I feel too old to be wondering what someone else's motives are. I guess thinking "I'm sure he'll call, since he works with my friend" and "He wouldn't have asked for my number if he wasn't planning on using it" doesn't really provide credibility anymore.

It seems no matter how old I get, the motto "boys will be boys" will always hold true.