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I feel like I should be cheery about that. Even though New Year’s means nothing to me. I’m still weirdly stuck on academic time and thinking, blah here comes the spring semester.
But I know to many of you, the new year is a time for reflection and optimism and resolutions.
Resolutions are bullshit.
Or are they?
I go back and forth on this. On the one hand, the bad hand, the hand that is always balled in a fist – I think resolutions come from a straight lame place of self loathing. It’s taking stock of how much you suck and all the work it’s going to take to fix that giant ball of suck. Oh, I know, we all try to put a happy spin on it, calling it a resolution and acting like the world gets a shiny new coat of paint every January 1st and if the world can do it by god so can I said the little blue engine that could.
But, the problem is, when that little blue engine’s motivation is to change the terrible thing that is his/her/its fat boiler because that boiler is disgusting then the resolve wears off quickly.
Because self loathing, like fear, is a worthless motivator. Eventually, the self loathing gets the best of you, or the worst, I guess. Anyway, it means dropping out of the gym, letting your schedule get overwrought and yelling Thomas the Tank Engine based obscenities at your kids.
Which you hate, you hate that you do this. Ergo you hate you. ERGO nothing can be done because it’s all a pile of hate. Scrapped bitches. Onto 2012 AM I RIGHT?
Of course I am.
Or maybe not.
Because on the hand that I leave open and reaching, I think maybe resolutions aren’t about self loathing but about the promise of a goal. I like goals. Goals are things you score in soccer. Soccer is about winning and wearing uniforms.
So I think, maybe if the resolution comes from a place of cheering fans and David Beckham, you might be onto something. So how to get from scrapped tank engines to winners?
First, ditch the self loathing. Make your New Years Resolutions about a measured goal. Not about how much weight to lose but how many minutes you can do on the treadmill.
Only don’t get on a treadmill, get on the track. It’s better. Or the street.
Anyway, those minutes are about you doing something, not you hating yourself.
With that in mind, I give you my New Years Resolutions.
1. Tickle the boys, every day. Tickling is an easy thing to do and children laugh when you do it. Win/win.
2. Text my sister and mom every once in a while. Phone calls are for 2002.
3. Stop trying to download illegal Japanese erotica. It’s killed the computer – sorry Danny. Still I’m sure it was you trying to marry Mac and Abobe that really did it in. My stuff was just the scantily clad nail in the coffin.
What about you, you Super Awesome Crew, what are your resolutions? Or do you skip them all together?