I'm feeling a little smug after I rocked day one of the Self One-Month Makeover out of the park. Easy peasy, but today is another day and I cannot rest on my laurels in my quest to become saintly and pure of heart. As I drove to work this morning, calling no fewer than four fellow commuters "fucking cocksucker!" under my breath, clearly the karma thing from yesterday did not make nearly enough impact in lessening my evil intentions. (And one of those people was a very little old man who probably has never smoked a pipe in his life. At least not that kind of pipe.)

Day Two: Make a Daily Donation

Whatever! Is this all you've got, Self.com? Child's play! Given my hippy activist childhood, I already am a firm believer in our responsibility to make the world a better place, through thought, word and deed (mostly the word and the deed in my case). I have an automatic payroll deduction that goes toward a local animal shelter, a local homeless shelter and a program that gives at risk kids something to do after school, and I also have a set percentage of my discretionary budget set aside every month to donate to different charities (in the last few months, I donated to Habitat for Humanity, the Susan G. Komen Fund, an alumni scholarship fund, the Salvation Army, and the Audobon Aquarium of the Americas. Really, it's guilt absolution, because how else can I justify to myself buying a bunch of pretty shoes or purses unless I know that I've already thrown some kindness to the less fortunate or worthwhile causes.

But, since the spirit of the Self One-Month Makeover is not to rest on laurels but rather to become better than when you started, I hit Donors Choose and gave until it hurt—my Starbucks money. Yes, like Whitney Houston, I totally believe that the children are our future, and if it means that some little girl grows up to cure the hell out of cancer (warning: reading that project description might make you weepy), then eschewing my $5 a day coffee habit would be totally worth it. 

Commenters, please remind me of this fact this tomorrow, when I'm falling asleep into my laptop during a meeting. —Weetabix