Ever had those moments, right when you open those crusted over eyes, when you can feel your heart pounding in your skull, that you will never ever drink as much as you did the night before? You swear off all dark liquors, especially those that rhyme with flavormeister, and tell yourself that it won’t happen again. You know, until the next day.
Welcome to the world of New Years Resolutions. Where, in a haze of drunken debauchery, we tell ourselves and anyone who will listen that we swear to break the habits that we have been living with our whole adult life. “I swear I’ll cut back on drinking” right after this mimosa. “I resolve to eat better,” but these deep dish pizzas topped with gummy bears won’t eat themselves, and I just don’t want to be rude. “I’m going to work out,” and walking to the fridge to get said pizza counts as cardio, right?
Don’t get me wrong, I think resolutions are a great way to get motivated, and I know many have probably changed their life on them, but the staggering amount of people who haven’t is what makes up this little opinion. Also I’m no where near perfect in this category, and that’s why I’ve been doing one of two things these past few New Years:
I’ll make one resolution. That’s right. Just one. Last year it was to find a job I loved and the year before that was to read 30 books. I nailed both and at the end of the year, I felt invincible as I shoveled pound after pound of chocolate coated turkey stuffing into my mouth. With one resolution, I feel it’s easier to stay on track. Instead of “I’m going to eat all the health there is to eat AND work out until I can’t feel feelings” pick one or the other, and that way you won’t feel as disappointed at the end of the year when that $8000 elliptical you got is gathering dust and spiders in your patio corner.
Secondly, I’ve been known to make predictions. What I do is write down a few predictions of what I think will happen across the year and seal them and put them in a safe hiding spot. After about a week I forget that it exists and when the next year comes around, I suddenly remember I wrote something. It’s fun to sit down with friends and read off what you though might happen over the past year (did the world end? The Cowboys finally make it to the playoffs? Things like that). This way, the only sadness you feel at the end of the year is about how many predictions you got wrong.
The New Year is a great time to start fresh, even if it only lasts a few weeks, and for me, well, I predict that I’ll swear off bacon. I’ll never eat it again! You know, until the next day.