A new year is almost upon us and people are frantically making resolutions. Not me. Never have, never will.
Here’s why resolutions, in my humble opinion, suck.
Expectation vs Reality
Expectation: You’re still eating turkey leftovers after Christmas day. There’s an extra roll on your belly made exclusively by Quality Street. You swear you’ll never eat again.
As of 1st January you will eat like a teeny tiny bird. Celery will be a treat not a chore.
Reality: There are still chocolates left in the bottom of the tub. They may be coffee creams, which you hate, but waste isn’t good for the planet. You must do your part and polish them off.
Oh, and you don’t want to put your body into shock by going from eating your own body weight in Christmas pudding to a single lettuce leaf. You need to ease in slowly. February should be fine.
1st January is also a ridiculous time to start a diet. You have a hangover from partying the night before and only a fry-up and snacks are going to sort that out.
Expectation: You will become an exercise god or goddess. You’ve bought all the fancy workout gear and purchased the gym membership that’s costing more than your mortgage. There’s an exercise bike, ready for your spurts of energy. A medicine ball and set of weights sit in the corner of your lounge.
Reality: It’s too cold to leave the house. Going to the gym means going outside. Sure, you could use the equipment you have in your home but the exercise bike is a great clothes horse and your whole wardrobe is on it. The medicine ball has become a cat toy and the weights are too heavy to lift.
The gym owner loves you every month when your direct debit comes out and you’ve still not shown your face.
Expectation: You will give up alcohol. You don’t need it and really it doesn’t taste that nice. It’s bad for you and your body is going to be a temple next year.
Reality: Your temple is more fun when there’s a party of prosecco going on in there. Flavoured gin is nectar and you can only dance at parties when you’re off your face.
Giving things up often equals misery. Misery is, well, a miserable bitch who deserves to be cheated on.
If you must make a resolution, oh foolish one, cheat on misery. Don’t give something up, take something on instead.
Don’t give up chocolate. Take on eating chocolate. You’ll possibly get sick of it after you’ve snarfled your twentieth Dairy Milk in one day. I cannot guarantee this though. Dairy Milk is life in my house.
Don’t give up smoking. Take on smoking more. You’ll either breathe badly or probably die. Either way smoking won’t be an issue anymore. Both ways will make you quit.
Don’t give up chewing your nails. Take on chewing your nails more. You’ll chew down so far you’ll be decapitating your hands. No more nails = no nail-biting habit to curb.
Blue Monday is the third Monday on January where apparently we all feel the most miserable. This is the day when our pay is running out and most of our resolutions have failed.
Beat the Blue Monday sense of failure by not making resolutions. Then you’ll have nothing to feel down about, apart from the early pay you got in December that you haven’t managed to stretch.
No more Blue Mondays where you contemplate your navel and your failures. Laugh at those who broke all those resolutions. You may be fatter, less fit, and breathing like Darth Vader through a smoke fog but you will be happy as a pig in poo.
That Way Lies Madness
Resolution keeping will drive you around the bend.
It is proven that you will begin to hallucinate if you live on salad and nothing else. Every tomato will become a doughnut, until you put it in your mouth.
Cucumber will pretend to be a baguette of bready goodness. Bad luck chomping into what is basically green water when you’re craving carbs.
Exercising too much will make you a gym or running bore. Take it from someone who knows. You will drive your friends mad updating every run on Facebook and sharing your stats. You will also injure things if you go full pelt.
Fat friends will hate you. Buff friends will become your enemy because they can run two seconds faster than you.
Don’t make resolutions if you want to keep your sanity.
No Resolutions For Me
As always I will not make resolutions this year. Life is too full of stress and pressure as it is.
The perfectionist in me would combust if I failed at a resolution. Kudos to those of you who make them and keep them. I’m secretly a little jealous.
For the rest of us, let’s just keep resolving to do the best we can by ourselves and others every day, not just on 1st January. Let’s make lifestyle changes in our own time, when we’re ready to make them, and not because of an arbitrary date in the calendar. If you make changes when you are really ready you’re more likely to succeed.
Let’s also have a silent giggle at our friends who are gasping for their caffeine/chocolate/alcohol/cigarette/couch potato fix by the end of the first week of January.
Life is bleak enough as it is without that kind of resolution negativity in our lives.
Over to You
Do you not make resolutions? How does that work for you?
Do you make resolutions? How does that work for you?
If you’re giving up chocolate, would you like my address to send the leftover contents of your selection boxes? I am so selfless.