I achieved one successful resolution in my wizened twenty three years: learning to graciously accept favors and compliments.
Person – You look lovely today, Polly!
Me – You must be kidding. I haven’t slept in days and the last meal I had was a mouthful of Easy Cheese in between my fourth class and seventh meeting today. I haven’t seen the sun since last Friday. But who knows? Maybe the bags under my eyes on my pale, malnourished face give me that intriguing, mysterious meth addict look.
Me – If I take the shuttle to [INTERSECTION] and pick up the city bus from there I can get to the downtown commuter train station in time to take that to [LANDMARK] and the cab from there to the airport should only be about $47! But I’ll have wake up at 3:15 to get there in time for my 11:00 departure.
Person – I could drive you, if you wanted.
Me – NO, PLEASE I could not bear to inconvenience you so!
Person – You look lovely today, Polly.
Me – Thank you!
Me – Could you take me to the airport Saturday morning? Giant Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee is on me.
Person – Sure!
This year I resolve to make no more resolutions. With the above exception, they’re usually overly idealistic, and the arbitrary weight behind them makes even reasonable attempts at self-improvement take on the air of a chore. Any pounds I may shed through New Years diets are never worth the anxiety and crippling guilt I feel for every minute indulgence, and the reading lists I write for myself are always ridiculously optimistic.
So in keeping with my paradoxical resolution to not resolve, behold my list of New Years Realistic Statements:
1. I will not permanently damage any friendships if I utter any variation of the following phrase: “I can’t tonight, I’m a little burnt out and I think I just need an evening to myself.”
2. Uttering any variation of the following phrase: “I can’t come home this weekend, I’ve had a lot going on and I’d rather take it easy up here” will not permanently sever ties with my family.
3. Prescribing strict or unreasonable diets for myself is unnecessary, but do stop making entire meals out of cheese.
4. It is absolutely fine to write at home instead of in-between tasks at work. Except for right now because I already started this post. So tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll write at home.
6. Nothing will explode if I put off non-immediate tasks until the next day. Sometimes I don’t need to refurbish furniture at 3 am. Sometimes that second coat of polyurethane can wait.
Armed with this understanding, I shall sally forth into 2013, ready to meet my freshly lowered expectations with moderate success when convenient!