It’s that time of year again. The old year is drawing to a close and many of us begin to consider ways we can refashion ourselves into better people. We like to believe that we’re discontent with the “old us”. Next year, it’s going to be different. I’ll diet and lose weight. I’ll exercise. I’ll be kinder to my fellow humans. I’ll finally return that library book that has been overdue since 1977.
The ball begins to descend. Party horns toot, confetti falls, Auld Lang Syne plays in the background as we kiss our Companions, dates, or that Afghan hound that’s been hanging about way too much lately. For the first few days, or even weeks after the massive hangover has been dealt with, I actually do put on that alien façade and try to be a different person.
I feel good about myself. Look at the new and improved me! See? I told you I’d do it! And, then it happens. A moment of weakness.
Never in the history of the world has there been a more perfect Red Velvet Cheesecake, or a more mouth-watering loaf of warm, yeasty bread. One serving. No more. After the food has magically disappeared, I promise myself it was just a minor slip; nothing more.
A day or two later, I am taking a leisurely stroll through the supermarket with my shopping cart. All around me, eardrums are pierced by the shriek of a little one who simply cannot live without that Three Musketeers bar the size of a surfboard. Minutes pass and the screams begin to shatter the glass in the frozen foods displays. The mother, apparently deaf, continues her way up and down the aisles gathering her Sister Shubert’s sausage rolls and that tinned chicken on sale, 4 for a dollar. I’m not sure I can tolerate one more second of his anguished wailing.
Something inside me just snapped. I felt a ripping sensation in my brain. I try so hard to explain it to the Judge in a way he’ll understand. He isn’t buying it, though. He passes sentence. Now, I’m sitting on the hard iron cot, trying to convince my new roommate that, while he may be a perfectly nice person, I’m just not interested in him “in that way”. I remind myself that if I’d just gone on with my life the way it was, without adding the stress of trying to recreate myself, I mightn’t be here right now.
Despite the many, many flaws and shortcomings you may have seen exhibited from time to time, there is no reason whatsoever for you to expect to see any New Year’s Resolutions coming from this corner. Nope; I’m going to stay fat and sassy and mean and trifling. And, out of jail!
Here’s a New Year’s Resolution you can easily keep. Check out my fellow bloggers and follow their posts. It may not make you a better person, but you’ll damn sure be entertained!
And, don’t forget to click over to Amazon.com and pick up your copy of New Yesterdays. Read it, and tell all your friends about it!