No Resolutions for Me.

I used to make a long list of New Year's Resolutions each year. And, by the end of January, I had broken all of them. Sometimes, it seemed as though I was just trying to break them, it happened so quickly. And, subconsciously, maybe I was. I have never been one to take orders, even from myself, and those resolutions seemed a lot like orders and were stress-inducing, and the last thing I needed was more stress. So, I stopped making serious resolutions several years ago.

My resolutions list always started with a promise to get on a diet and stay on it. HAhahahaha. I should never have put that on the list. What was I thinking? The only thing I had for comfort was food. In the last few years, I have comforted my self into another size in clothing, and if I comfort myself any more, I'll need a larger recliner. So, maybe I can go so far as to make a very ambiguous resolution to try to do better, and choose comfort foods that are a bit less caloric.

My second resolution was always to get organized. That was 'way too much going against my nature. I know a leopard can't change its spots, and a natural-born slob can't turn into a housekeeper with a place for everything and everything in its place. I once knew a woman who was so compulsive about everything being in its place that she used to treat everyone to a viewing of her one jumbled junk drawer, just to prove she was normal. I once accused her of waxing her driveway.

Then, there were the years that I resolved to get serious about writing the Great American Novel. Oh, puhleez! You can't expect a free-spirited will-o-the-wisp such as myself to have the discipline to even make an outline, much less write a chapter or two a day - every day. I would have to have a schedule - write at a certain time every day. And, what time would that be? Early morning? No, that would cut into my coffee-drinking, newspaper reading, crossword puzzle working, and I'd probably have to miss "The View". No, not early morning. Afternoon? What about my nap? No, not afternoon. Nights? When would I read? Or work on my blog, or read YOUR blogs? See? There's just not time for everything. My art will have to suffer.

I always resolved to be a nicer person, until I realized that I was already as nice as it was going to get, so my friends would just have to live with it. Can I help it if I'm opinionated and outspoken, and can, at times, be a bit tactless? You have to take the good with the bad. I used to worry a lot about other people's feelings, and then, one day I realized those other people didn't seem to have the same worry about me. So, F--k 'em if they can't take a joke.

When my kids were small, I resolved to be nicer to them and not lose my temper, and to do more things with them. Invariably, the next day, when I got home from work, basking in the glow of maternal affection, one or the other of them would be standing in the door, and as I got out of the car, would say something like, "We're out of ___________" (fill in the blank), and I'd get pissed and forget that silly resolution. Kids are God's way of paying you back for the way you treated your own parents.

So. No resolutions from me. Nuh-uh. I'm a lot older and wiser, now. I'll just sit back and watch everyone else break theirs, one at a time. And, I'll smile.