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28 december 2000 |
talking 'bout a resolution Uuuuuugh, it's that time of year again. It's New Year's resolution time. Erk. I am not a New Year's resolution-maker. Call it fear of failure (the likely suspect), laziness (also a winner), or simply a concern that I'll forget the resolution. I can easily see myself resolving to eat less pizza in 2001, only remembering my promise as I shove the fifth slice into my mouth one winter night. Darn! I'll think. Another year, shot. That's the thing about New Year's Resolutions. They just seem like a sure-fire recipe for disappointment, and darn if we need more of that in our lives. I can kind of deal with the times when other people occasionally disappoint, but when I let myself down...well, that's another matter entirely. That just stinks. Resolution makers get in my way, truth be told. Belonging to the biggest YMCA in town as I do, I will be waiting on them for various weight machines for approximately one month (until they decide working out just isn't for them.) One month of constant overheard locker-room nattering about losing those pesky ten pounds and I ate sooo muuuuch HAM. I got your resolution right here, Skippy: put down the fork. Sidenote: I just read my friend Jason's Front Page to get this little gem: There are other things to be doing with one's life besides doing drugs and writing poetry. I hate it when he makes me fall out of my chair while I'm writing. Okay so anyway, don't get the wrong idea. I don't believe for a moment that I couldn't use a little tune-up in my life. But New Year's Resolutions aren't the way to do it for me. Good happens gradually. Rarely have I awakened one morning, transformed. Telling people that I resolve to be more patient this year is too overwhelming for me. It's much more satisfying to have good moments, to be able to tell my friend Linda, "I waited a whole minute before kicking the pop machine to release my Diet Coke. Hooray for me!" I remember this satisfied feeling the next time my patience is challenged, and the successes build on themselves. Same goes with my workouts, and same goes with eating right. If you think I truly enjoy the act of rising before sunrise to lift heavy things and sweat, think again. I'd much rather lie around like Wilma and bat a mouse around at my leisure. But gradually, the whole living healthy thing makes itself worth my while. It's the small things that give me a grin, like having lots of energy at two in the afternoon while my coworkers are running into walls and slurring their speech. It's being able to wear the same pants I wore in high school. It's knowing that, if threatened, I can probably run to safety or hold onto a ledge until help arrives. Living well is, for the most part, worth it. I guess for me, resolutions are a daily thing. I resolved to drag my patooty out of bed today, brush my teeth, and hoof it to work. I resolve to put green things on my lunch plate today. Then I resolve to go home and do something productive, like play tickle with Wilma. I'm doing pretty well with my little resolutions so far. People sometimes ask me what my five or ten year plan is -- they ever do that with you? Eh, I dunno. I guess to make it there safe and sound is goal number one. To make it there without any wasted moments is the other thing. Smiling. Squeezing turnips until tulips pop out. That's my kind of year. |