When Resolutions Lack Resolve

Gosh, is it January already? I know you have some great ideas about what to do with this new beginning. Maybe you’ll quit bad habits or vow to get into shape; or maybe you’ll make this the year you get organized.

Well, this year I’m not going to be left behind, darn it. I’m going to do all those things and more! Why, in a month’s time, I might not even recognize myself.

Getting in Shape

I decide to start off my morning with some yoga. Unfortunately, my sweat pants are dirty. I wore them a lot over the holidays, first for comfort while putting up the tree and wrapping gifts, and second because they were the only pants that fit me after Christmas dinner.

I fish some old running shorts out of a drawer, but make the mistake of putting them on in front of the mirror. I get them halfway up my pasty, hairy legs–but they get stuck somewhere around my hips. Plenty of rest is just as important as yoga, I decide, and crawl back into bed.

Getting Organized

When I finally wake, refreshed and rested, I venture into the office. “Now this is where I should be starting,” I think as I survey the damage. My filing cabinet holds everything but files and my bookshelf is moments away from collapsing under the weight of old magazines, knick-knacks, and CDs that belong in the living room.

I roll up my sleeves and start shifting things around, only to find a stack of my December gift receipts under a pile of laundry on the dining room table. Reading them causes shallow and rapid breathing. Maybe I should have done that yoga after all. I lie down on the floor to avoid getting too dizzy, then relax a little by playing with my daughter’s new toys for a couple of hours.

Getting Healthy

All that imagination makes me hungry, so I go in search of sustenance. Thoughts of healthy eating and clean living fill my head. Maybe even a detox! Let’s see, I’ll need raw nuts, vegetables, some brown rice…but all I can find are some leftovers and a plastic container full of pecan squares. “I can’t throw these away…someone has to eat them,” I think.

Four pecan squares, a container of questionable spinach dip, half a box of crackers, and a mug of eggnog later, I’m back in my bed. “What happened to you?” asks my boyfriend when he walks in the door.

“It’s these darn New Year’s resolutions,” I cry. “I can’t go on living like this!”

“Maybe you need to slow down a bit,” he suggests gently. “Just deal with one thing at a time.”

He’s right of course. If anyone needs me, I’ll be hiding under my duvet until February, catching up on my sleep. At last, a resolution I’ll actually be able to keep…