I’m terrible at making resolutions.
I’m even worse at cleaning kitchen cabinets.
I could say that I’ll resolve to make better resolutions in the New Year, but that’s like my equivalent of asking for more wishes. Like cheating…like how I really need to clean out my kitchen cabinets.
The truth is, I feel bad for January 1st.
Imagine the crushing pressure that tiny number 1 has as the sole keeper of everyone’s promises, while December 31st just chills and loads up on champagne, slurring during the countdown, “Don’t worry ‘bout me, folks, Jan 1 will clean up this mess tomorrow…he always does.”
Poor, poor, Jan 1.
How can one day live with all that responsibility?
With all that pressure?
Every single person in the world making a promise to start on that one day.
The day that will change ALLLL the things for ALLLL the people.
Who started this mess? Was there ever an advocate for Jan 1?
*reaches out to Bono for free concert date*
All’s I know is that IF I were to make any promises for the New Year, it’d be to help that poor Jan 1 guy out as much as possible by NOT making any major promises (and trust me, he’ll thank you).
I mean, why do we have to be all official? Why not make our resolutions mid-year so that when Jan 1 comes along, he can just be like the substitute teacher who checks our papers to make sure we did what we said we were going to do?
Do you see the logic? Do you see the reasoning?
Do you see all the dust in my cabinets??
*Stands up to face New Year’s Resolution Anonymous group*
I vowed to be a better cleaner one New Year’s Eve long, long, ago.
I then vowed to vow better in the next New Year.
BUT…one day, on a mid-year, sunny Tuesday afternoon, I just cleaned my cabinets.
Nobody told me to, there wasn’t any carrot or cupcake dangling under my nose, and the Promise Police didn’t come after me with a warrant.
I just did it.
All on my own.
And Jan 1’s across the galaxy heaved a sigh of relief.
A promise finally fulfilled.
The force could finally be saved.
BUT THEN another sneaky New Year rolled around, and I got sucked right back into making resolutions…and poor Jan 1 was left (once again) to watch me NOT clean my cabinets or lose the ten pounds I swore to dump after my son was born—thirteen years ago—and…and….and…
(I did mention I was terrible at resolutions, right?)
The New Year’s Resolution Anonymous President, Mr. 365, gives me a gentle pat of understanding and faces the group.
“You will all be the best you can be.” He points to the months splayed across his boxy chest. “And you don’t need the crutch of Jan 1 to do it.”
*Jan 1 gets up and slips 365 a twenty*
“So please,” he says, directly into the blog camera, “if not for yourself, how about for Jan 1? Let’s give him a break and let go of that New Year’s pressure.”
*resolutions are re-set to everyone’s own pace*
And the world rejoices as Jan 1 is free to just be a regular day once more, the pressure and responsibility lifted from his meager stick shoulders–for he’s just three little lines, people.
…Okay, next year I promise to write a better New Year’s post. (-: