I don’t make resolutions for the new year because I know I’m never going to learn to speak fluid Spanish in three months, lose 30 pounds by April, cut back on the swearing (fuck that shit) and write and finish a novel. My ambition to become a better human usually lasts until January 3 and that’s when the me in meanness comes back out. I’m not going to set up an exercise regimen that will stay with me until the end of time but I will take the stairs instead of the elevator at work (only because I’m terrified of getting stuck in an elevator with nothing to read). I’ll probably always swear because it makes me feel better than crying. I wrote a novel from last May until this October. I have no clue what the fucker’s about. Really. I flip through my notebooks and wonder how much Benadryl was I on when I wrote it. Evidently, a shitload of Benadryl.
So, my resolutions will look like this:
*Remember to check my pockets before I wash clothes. I’ve lost about 6 chapsticks in the dryer.
*Try not to flip off my co-workers when they leave a room.
*Gossip less. Nah. Just kidding. It’s the one thing that keeps me coming to work. Fuck that “be a bigger person” shit.
*Try to be a more disciplined writer (but that means turning off Netflix and Huluplus to write and damn it, there are so many awesome BBC shows to watch that I’ve had to make a list of all the ones I want to watch. And Love Actually isn’t going to watch itself 17 more times).
*Try to be more patient (but there are so many dumb drivers out there)
*Try not to “accidentally” knock over whining children at the grocery store.
*Try not to “accidentally” knock over whining adults at the grocery store.
There are probably a million more “try to” resolutions. I think not knocking down kids and not washing lip balm is a good start. Let’s see what happens on January 2nd.