A few weeks ago, I was driving my daughter to school. On the way, we passed an overweight man in mismatched clothing, huffing his way awkwardly down the roadside. His pace was less than breakneck. His attire was certainly not that of a runner. His form was something that would never be seen in any track and field event. In my mind, I made a snarky comment to the effect of, “There goes a New Year resolution.” And then I immediately wanted to punch myself in the genitals. This man, regardless of his reasoning, had made a conscious decision to get up in the early morning hours, put on whatever comfortable clothes he had, and begin a journey of healthier living. Kudos to you, sir! New Year, new you, as they say!
I have no idea whether or not that man stuck to his resolution. We’re now in the final stretch of the first month of 2017 and I haven’t seen him again. Perhaps he joined a gym or got his own equipment for home. Maybe he changed his jogging time or his route. No matter. The point is that I hope he’s still sticking with it. I sincerely hope he hasn’t allowed his New Year resolution to go the way of so many that are made and dismissed before the beginning of February.
Resolutions are amusing to me. Primarily because I’ve made so many over the three-plus decades I’ve been on this Earth. I stopped making them a long time ago. Failure is not something I enjoy. Somehow, saying it out loud, even to myself, opens the door for failure. I read somewhere that writing it down gives it more hold and power over you, as well as providing a visual reminder. I tried that once. I wrote down a resolution to be more organized. The piece of paper upon which I’d written the resolution was misplaced the next day. Irony is a saucy vixen.
In truth, I don’t know that I’ve ever successfully followed through with a resolution. I’ve heard that backdating your resolutions is a phenomenal way to feel good about yourself. Fair enough. Here we go.
–2006—I resolve to rapidly start losing my hairline.
–2007—I resolve to still be unmarried in a decade.
–2014—I resolve to play more video games.
–2015—I resolve to branch out more in my selection of adult entertainment.
–2016—I resolve to have more conversations with the cats while sipping cocktails.
Nailed it. I feel better already.
January 1st is merely another day in our lives. There is no reason to hold it to such standards. It isn’t magical. It isn’t a clean slate. But we have given it that honor. It provides a way for us to reset alongside millions of others. A purging of a past life in the company of like-minded individuals.
However, I’m a procrastinator. So are many of you. You know who you are. And we are ultimately optimists when you think about it. We are hopeful that there will always be enough time to finish what needs to get done. We’ll thrive off the chaos of rushing to finish something by a deadline. We’ll tell ourselves, “There is always tomorrow.” Every day gives us the opportunity to start new. I’m a Type A personality’s worst nightmare. I will absolutely get something done. I’ll simply do it in my own time and with my own casual flair. And you know what? I’ll live longer doing it. You can have all the stress and perfection in your life. I’m going to breathe and laugh in this disorder known as today.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to start the laundry I was going to do yesterday.