I was all pumped this month about beginning a new year when I will do all those things I know I must do sooner or later. With the month already 20 days old, sooner has passed, and later has just showed up.
I went out and bought an attractive new daily journal with special colored pens and gold stars from the Dollar Tree. I was planning to stick the stars on the days I keep my lofty resolutions. (Since retiring from the working world, I seem to be reverting to my preschool habits like eating popsicles and giving myself gold stars, just because I can.)
While waiting for inspiration for my New Year’s resolutions to kick in, I proceeded to clean out my bedside table. I’ve been stuffing newspaper clippings, recipes, and tubes of goop like Preparation H which I apply to my eyes religiously each night – I read that a world famous model does that, so I figure it can’t hurt. So far, the hemorrhoids under my eyes are less conspicuous.
Hey, what was this? A yellowed tattered piece of notebook paper was at the bottom of the pile. I opened it up and discovered my new year’s resolutions from 1983! That’s not so earth shattering in itself, except I noted every single resolution contained the same laundry list I’ve pledged to myself each January for the past 25 years. It startled me, like someone had thrown a glass of ice water in my face.
No matter how many lists I make or how committed I am, I know life is going to seep into my fortress and crack the masonry. There, in my girlish handwriting, were my perpetual resolutions:
*Lose 10 pounds;
*Cut the clutter and get my house organized once and for all.
*Slow down and stop rushing so much;
* Do something nice for someone else each day and not get found out;
* Cut the chocolate, sugar and junk food (I chuckled. The page was smudged
with a 25-year old chocolate bar.)
* Brush my hair 100 strokes each night.
With the exception of the last entry, my list would be the same yet again. I don’t think they recommend the 100 brush strokes anymore. It probably makes you LOSE your hair anyway.
What’s the point of wasting the paper to write them down again? The only goal I ever accomplished on a regular basis is to lose 10 pounds between New Years and Easter. But by fall, I begin to welcome them back home. By Christmas, I’ve regained 15 pounds. If you’re doing the math, you can see that I’m doing some deficit dieting.
The heck with this resolution thing. It only gives me pangs of guilt for consistently failing. “No more resolutions,” I said out loud to Lucky Dog, my stray, and Rebel, my Boston terrier who sat at the foot of my bed cocking their little faces like I’d just said something profound.
This year I’m making resolutions of things I WILL NOT do. “Negalutions,” if you will.
- Don’t allow any one, anywhere, anytime to rush me. I operate on MY time frame from now on;
- Don’t make any plans one day a week – That’s my date with myself. So get off my cloud, world – at least on Mondays;
- Don’t eat Brussels sprouts or sushi and certainly not at the same meal;
- Don’t watch Dr. Phil ever again. Once was enough to make my hair hurt;
- Don’t scrimp on household products – no more Dollar Tree gift wrapping or toilet paper which contain about 10 square inches per roll;
- Don’t obsess over weight (interesting choice of words). And do not drag one more diet book into the house. (I was sorely tempted buy “Write yourself Thin.” which I discovered by my favorite author Julia Cameron. Nope, not buying it!)
- Don’t chase perfection in any area of my life. Who likes perfect people anyway? I avoid them like the plague;
- And finally – Don’t try to have it all! Where would I put it?
I’d better get started on that 10-pound mountain. What will it be this year? Low carb, no carb, Weight Watchers or Sugar Busters? I’m considering the Joan Rivers Diet – nothing but fat-free, sugar-free Cool Whip for two weeks. That should do it.