A Letter To My New Year’s Resolutions
Listen. I know you don’t want to hear from me. I know I call you every year and ask for help but I’m in a room full of people asking me how I want to change myself and I have nowhere else to turn. We haven’t worked out in the past and I completely understand. That is 80% my fault for not following through with my promises but in my defense, you have always set the standards too high. Lose 20 pounds by January?!? Did you honestly expect that to happen? Is that even healthy? Anyway. That’s not the point here. Right now, I need you and I know you need me so I was thinking we could work out a deal.
Here’s what’s going to happen: When they ask about you, I’m going to tell them that you haven’t changed since last year. Exercise more. Eat healthy. Take risks. Get organized. Quit drinking. Watch less TV. You’re going to lie and I’m going to make them believe it.
In reality, I’m going to feign injury and swear off the gym for as long as it takes everyone to forget that I had made such an outrageous vow of health. The first few months of 2013 will involve the perpetual purchasing and discarding of fruits as I attempt to convince myself (and everyone else) that I’m trying to eat healthier. The only risks I’ll be taking will be the ones that can be made from the comfort of my own home. (Sweatpants or Pajama Jeans today?) I will try to organize my thoughts, fail, and proceed to getting distrac- where did my pencil go? Oh, ha! I’m holding it. I will quit drinking on the days that don’t end in “Y” and drink to my heart’s content on all the others. I will intentionally lose the remote so I cannot turn on the TV, then yell at every family member until someone finds it or forges a new one out of household materials.
I will do all of this until next December 23rd, at which point, convenience stores across the country will tear down their Christmas-themed products in favor of dazzling party hats and blinking batons that you will spin around until you get Vertigo. Once December 31st comes around and people start pulling out the resolutions list, I will recite you to a crowd of people like I didn’t rehearse every word a hundred times before and we can effortlessly ring in the New Year. And who knows? Maybe one of these days, I’ll actually call you back to check in or report some progress. My TV is bound to break eventually and when it does, I hope you’ll be waiting with open arms, ready to fill my empty promises to exercise and explore the world.
Your favorite human,