By Anne T. Donahue
Well, I tried. I tried when I said I wasn’t making any resolutions at all, and then I tried some more when I convinced myself that I wasn’t making resolutions, I was making “life changes.”
And dear reader, I’ve made none. I’ve made none, I’ll make none, and the good intentions I had on January 1 now seem shameful and embarrassing considering that immediately after my silent vows to improve in any way possible, I went back on them instantly.
So here is a short list of my failures, laid out for you, a person who might also need to be reminded that nothing matters, who cares, and therefore let us evolve into the garbage-eating possums we are. I will never promise anything again.
To stop hate-creeping
I had a high and mighty moment on NYE where, sat in front of hour six of Real Housewives of Orange County, I told myself I had moved past needing to creep my enemies/former crushes/anyone I needed to lurk without following for various reasons. I was wrong. I absolutely need to keep tabs on everybody on the entire planet because how else will I be able to feel connected to the world.
To start watching the good TV shows again
This choice was made after binging Shetland (so good!) but right before watching Young Wallander (wow – certainly a TV show that exists!). I then realized Real Housewives is 100% “good” and I do not feel bad about not watching that HBO series with all the robots.
To eat better
I absolutely don’t mean this in a health, fitness, and/or grilled chicken way. (And I never will.) Instead, I meant it the way it’s supposed to be taken: I had vowed to eat better a.k.a. eat like a rich famous person who ate shrimp cocktails constantly. Yet so far this year I have eaten only half a frozen shrimp ring (after it was thawed), and accepted my fate as a plebe who has McDonalds fries and smoothies delivered to her home because I’m exhausted, just exhausted, fries are potatoes, and potatoes are neat.
No more mindless internet surfing
Clearly the stupidest goal I have ever made.
No more “doom scrolling”
I think it’s actually just called “reading the news” and I’m going to go ahead and keep doing it.
No more buying for the sake of buying
Which was something I thought to myself while telling my mom just how happy I was that we’d decided to play cards. Then we realized we didn’t really know any card games. And also that we didn’t care to learn, and would rather play board games – which we didn’t have. So I bought some, and then some puzzles, and then some slippers that were 50% off. Anyway, the moral of the story is: this is all I have right now, so I am clearly going to chase the high of markdowns and coupons, thank you kindly.
To accept myself for the goddess I am!
What a marvellous thought! Productive! Positive! Great! Also: something you can’t just will into submission, are you kidding me? I am a 35-year-old woman. If I truly believed I could fix myself in the matter of only a few hours, all of us would be the best possible versions of ourselves to exist in this world, all the time. Instead, I am someone who is wearing an old men’s plaid shirt over a graphic t-shirt with Neil Young lyrics on it (it’s nice!!), debating which scrunchie to use on my French braid. I also had a Diet Pepsi before 9 a.m., and will have another one later – likely after I go to the grocery store and buy Kool-Aid, like a child. I accept this, but I am no goddess. Which, well, thank the lord. Being one of those sounds absolutely horrifying, much like being a celebrity whose dating life is something everybody cares about.
So okay, fine: I accept myself, yes. But only as the possum I mentioned earlier. One who is actually quite proud that I went back on everything I swore to do this year in only seven days.