I’m not going to say I’ve never made any New Year resolutions. I am quite old. I could have and just don’t remember. I can say that if I have, it’s been over 20 years since I’ve made a new year’s resolution. I don’t make New Year resolutions.
Here are my top ten reasons why I don’t make resolutions.
Only one of them is true.
If you read these top ten reasons and neglected to read the sentence directly above this sentence then I’m going to sound like a psychotic douche twizzle.
Who wants to start a girl band with me called The Psychotic Douche Twizzles? We could be like Wendy O. Williams and the Plasmatics meet The Spice Girls. It’s going to be great.
Anyway, here they are, the top ten reasons why I don’t make resolutions:
- Resolutions are against my religion that I just made up. This religion also requires daily naps and that Mondays be kept holy. I am going to have to explain this to my boss. I can no longer work on Mondays because that is when the cleansing ritual of laying in bed watching Netflix and wondering if you can get your husband to bring you food happens.
- I’m kind of lazy and I just don’t feel like making resolutions.
- When I was a kid, I made a list of resolutions and just as I went to show them to my mother, she told me that my dog ran away. To this day, even thinking about new year’s resolutions makes me cry. I miss you Sparky.
- I already live my life in a perfect manner. Well, no one is perfect, so you know what I mean. Nearly perfect. Anyway, my body is perfect, my hair is fabulous, and my house is immaculate. Plus, I have a rewarding and satisfying career. My marriage could be a used as an example of how to have the perfect marriage. My kids are productive and lead fulfilling lives. It would be pretty silly of me to make any resolutions when I have literally nothing I can improve upon. #SoBlessed
- Making resolutions trigger bouts of anxiety and depression. For instance, if I were to resolve to learn how to pop a wheelie and to feed all the hungry children in the world, I would feel both depressed and anxious. Anxious because resolving to pop a wheelie probably ends with me having a concussion or a broken limb. Or, feeling failure anxiety because I’d get the wheel about an inch off the ground, which is as far as I ever got it as a kid. I don’t have to express why my failure to feed all the hungry kids would trigger depression, right? (You know what, though? We could feed a few of them.)
- My third cousin’s next door neighbor’s Avon lady made a resolution once. It caused her hair to turn plaid. Why would anyone risk that shit?
- I have to learn to knit first. I promised myself I wouldn’t start anything new until I learned to knit. This includes resolution making.
- When I was a little girl, an old woman in a black robe appeared by my bedside. She told me that many years would pass, but that one day the fate of the world would rest in my hands. She said that it was imperative that I never make any new year’s resolutions because, if I did, my resolution would trigger a chain of events that would cause a person name Donald Trump to be elected president. Then, she gave me a lovely recipe for apple brown Betty, but that isn’t related to the Trump thing. As far as I know, I was very young and the whole experience was confusing.
- I have decided to replace “resolutions” with “revolutions”. If you need me, I’ll be over in the corner spinning around in Randy’s office chair.
- I just got through last year for crying out loud. Can a person breath for one goddamn moment before having to worry about next year?
Okay, two of those might be true, not just one.