New Years does’t phase me. You can keep your champagne flutes and sparkily silver hats. I feel no need to engage in debauchery as one last hurrah before I go cold turkey on whatever vices delude myself into thinking I will give up on New Year’s Day. I am perpetually crossing lines I have made for myself, constantly repenting, and then drawing the lines closer, tighter, firmer.
Do: read more, eat less, be more assertive, be less neurotic.
I am always making resolutions, not out of choice, but out of obligation.
Be: organized, unassuming, cool as a cucumber.
Mine are not instantaneous transformations. There’s the one minute you’re a smoker the next your not resolutions – but the brand of resolutions I a m speaking of requires slightly more moral certitude and time. A history of actions , evidence that one can point to as proof of your new and improved self.
Learn: to cook, belly dance, speak more Turkish.
New Years gives us infinite second chances without having to repent , confess, or apologize. Even you atheist secular humanists need forgiveness. The slate is wiped clean and get a brand new box of crayolas to desecrate it with.
But what would starting fresh really entail? Can you esponge the memories? Reputations? Past lives?
Brush your hair, don’t let the dishes pile up, eat three meals a day, post your blog,
stay in touch, don’t take it personally, investing not spending, news not tabloids.
No matter how much you improve, you are still fallible.
Loose that last five pounds, renovate that old room, don’t loose your temper, say thank you and I’m sorry.
What exactly are you striving for?
(perfection)
You’ll never be perfect.
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