New Year’s Resolutions

It’s that time of the year again, New Year’s Resolution time, where I take a look at all the things I lack, all the bad decisions I’ve made, and everything that is wrong with me and try to fix it all with a hastily written to do list. It’s time to question my happiness, health, and good fortune, and make promises that will only extend to the end of this blog post.  Hey, I’m just being patriotic, the U.S. economy depends on my wanting to be better than myself so I can buy things to improve the self esteem.  Fulfilling New Year’s resolutions means self contentment. Self contentment means less impulse purchases.  And less impulse buys means less jobs.  Of course it would be funny to list a bunch of hilarious resolutions like “Resolution 1: Win the lotto! Resolution 2: Write Better Resolutions!” like I always do, but that would be breaking…

  • Resolution 1: Be honest.  I am tired of my fake laugh.  I do it to be polite. I do it to disarm.  I do it all the time.  So does everyone else. But its hurting my face and throat. And I think giving me wrinkles and migraines. It’s not even a laugh, it’s like rapid shallow breathing.  Who are we fooling?  There has to be another way of responding to your boss’s “Happy Friday” than a soft “Ha ha ha, finally.”  Why do honesty and politeness have to be mutually exclusive?
  • Resolution 2: Exercise, take a vitamin, just one lousy vitamin, and go outside.  Seriously, my medical history is littered with things like cancer and glaucoma.  Why do I sit on my duff all day and forsake vitamins just so I can catch another thirty seconds of my Facebook newsfeed?
  • Resolution 3: Like, only check Facebook once a day. Seriously, what is wrong with me?  I don’t have friends anymore, I have Facebook–crude text representations of various people in my life.  It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers where those I care about have been replaced by tagged photos.  The amount of times I have thought of doing something just so I can post it on Facebook has finally exceeded the limit.  Facebook won’t launch my comedy career, Facebook won’t cause others to adopt my political causes, and Facebook won’t relaunch friendships.  I can’t think of the last person I friended on Facebook that I had an improved friendship with.  Friendships dissolve for a reason, to strengthen the relationships we cherish and keep Facebook in business.  Besides I figured out how to update all my statuses with Twitter.
  • Resolution 4: Drive my car. I haven’t driven my car since November 2011.  I live in Los Angeles.  Something is not right here.  I love that car, yet I neglect it.  I should take a picture of my driving it and post it on Facebook.  Sure, gas should be preserved.  Sure, public transportation saves money, the environment, and needless hours in commuter traffic.  But I should hit the road and go to the beach or something.
  • Resolution 5: Call my friends on the phone.  If I had more friends in L.A., I’d resolve to hang out more, but since most of my friends are still on the East Coast, I think I should pick up the phone at least once a month.  Writing two sentence emails to check-in has done nothing more than give me whiplash at work from checking to see if my boss has caught me on Gmail.
  • Resolution 6: Only eat sugar late at night.  This is only a problem while working in an office where treats are pushed harder than liquor on highway billboards. Starting off the day with sweet breads, chocolate, and corn syrup dipped danishes has never once not made me nervous and depressed for the rest of the day.  STOP IT. Drink water, have a banana, and if you have sugar make it close to bedtime so the blood sugar drops when your consciousness does.  Seriously why the office treats?
  • Resolution 7: Watch more episodes of Barney Miller.  I love that show.
  • Resolution 8: Spend more than 30 seconds each day playing with my cat.  The poor guy is lonely.  And I have not patience to teach him Facebook.
  • Resolution 9: Read a book before buying a new one.  Los Angeles already has a library, I don’t need to maintain an auxiliary one in my apartment.  Anyone want to borrow a Tolkien book or The Idiot’s Guide to Past Life Regression?
  • Resolution 10: Write in the morning for 10 minutes or more.  Short stories, grocery lists, Magneto Jokes, anything. There’s something to putting down some scattered thoughts on paper first thing in the day.  It clears the head, puts goals in perspective, and
  • Resolution 11: Stop thinking you have to list everything in threes.