New Old Year’s Resolutions 2022

I decided to republish this from a couple of years ago, because it’s remarkably relevant, and besides, I really haven’t changed that much.

We all make them, and in very short order break them.  We start out with the best of intentions, and this will be the breakthrough year that we follow through.  Until some moment in January, when, into the post-holiday doldrums goes our willpower, our resolve, and our determination.  Some of our loftier intentions, those requiring massive shifts in outlook and routine, dissolve somewhere between Boxing Day and New Years Day. For example, I’m cutting back on sweets.  But wait, there are still some Christmas cookies to be . . . . .  I’m going to get more exercise, but wait, it’s rather chilly and windy outside today and I might hit an ice patch.  Better take the car to the mail house.  It will probably be warmer tomorrow.

As I look outside the window, I see a plump cardinal sitting among the bushes.  That’s a sign of good luck.  Great, I’ll start making my plans.  Or maybe I’ll just buy a lottery ticket.  That’s lucky too, right?  So, here I am, compiling a list of things upon which I can reflect and improve, although fortunately, if I’m completely honest, I don’t have that many faults in want of improvement.  

RESOLUTION # 1.   I’m going to be less obsessive about “tidying up”, putting things in their proper places (or as Herself and The Daughter would say, “tucking away”).  I’m going to let things stay out.  I’m not going to make hourly or daily trips to the dumpster.  I’m going to let things stay in the wastebasket for minutes at a time.  I’m going to laugh, “ha ha” at unmade beds, at unfolded laundry, at piles of shipping boxes all over the dining room, at a breakfast bowl or two in the sink.  Who am I kidding?  They’re already in the dishwasher, and it’s running.  

RESOLUTION # 2.  I’m going to control some, at least a decent percentage, of my anger when inanimate objects throw me a curve.  And they will.  Gravity will take hold and it’s all over.  I’m going to take a deep breath and count to 10 before I unleash a barrage of colorful invective.  To quote again that wonderful line from the movie, Christmas Story, ‘My father wove a tapestry of obscenities . . . . .”   Fair warning, though.  That may be coupled with an increased intake of a nice, full-bodied cabernet, malbec, or pinot noir. 

RESOLUTION # 3.  I’m going to really try hard to stay home.  That’s difficult for me even in a pandemic resurgence.  Daily stops at the grocery store, the pharmacy, the dollar store, or anywhere else that whimsy and spontaneity may take me will be a real sacrifice.  I’ll even restrict my trips to the local coffee shop.  I’ll use the drive-up window more, which I hate. I have stayed away from some of my happy places – discount stores – for what seems like years (but is really only months).   It’s going to be difficult to continue hoarding essential items – laundry detergent, paper towel, shampoo, sandwich bags. But, no, I must resist.  I must be strong.

RESOLUTION # 4.  I’m going to spend less of Elizabeth’s inheritance on gardening and plants.  Oh, who am I kidding? My favorite gardening magazine featured the latest varieties of peonies and azaleas, which I use to fill in spots in the front garden in the spring.  Then there are the back gardens off the deck, well, they’ll need some serious consideration in the summer and fall. Clearly, this is not the year to scale back.  This past summer, I cut down on my garden shopping due to the pandemic, but it will be time to restock and rebuild.  Even Elizabeth gave me a gift certificate to a local nursery for Christmas.  That’s a sign from God, right? Maybe fewer containers, more compressed . . . OK, forget number 4.  That’s completely unworkable.  

RESOLUTION # 5. I’m going to be less judgmental.  I’m going to let the foibles of others just roll off my back.  I’m going to pretend that social media is a form of entertainment, no more or less than reruns of sit coms. This could be very difficult, what with Republicans advancing on many fronts.  I’m just going to keep telling myself that Republicans are people too, and I have to be nice.  I’ll try, in subtle ways, to create a more enlightened populace, at least in my immediate sphere. From now on, when I see a massive pick-up truck with militia stickers on the back bumper or a gun rack in the back window, I’m going to just smile and wave pleasantly.  When I see a car doing its best James Bond impression on the highway, I’ll calmly get out of its way.  I may even curb some of the remarks that will be itching to spring from my lips.  I’ll try to constrain my icy glare from the unmasked.  That will be a real stretch of my resolve.

RESOLUTION # 6. I’m going to use less sarcasm in daily conversation.  Sarcasm is my second language, and I’m quite fluent.  It slips easily and effectively into most everything I say and write. I was taken aback a few years ago when I had sent out an email to the staff where I was teaching, informing them of something important.  An English teacher wrote back asking if she might use that email as an example of sarcasm in her creative writing class.  Perhaps I went just a bit too far.  I’ve always seen it as a vital, living and breathing means of communication, particularly with adolescents.  It was my mission – not only to teach music but also to teach the subtleties, the inflections and nuances of properly used sarcasm. It’s worked well because Elizabeth is equally fluent.  I’m not sure how easily I can give up the nobility of sarcasm.

As my faithful readers can all see, I’ve stacked the resolution platter pretty full.  I have one more, and again, it will be a stretch.  RESOLUTION # 7.  I’m going to stop visiting the Amazon website more than once every two weeks.  OK, once weekly.  Positively no more than every three days.   I’ll restrain myself when Elizabeth tells me that we need something exotic or updated in the kitchen. Perhaps we won’t use the zester as often as first thought.  I’m going to stop buying stuff every time a thought pops into my head, because those delivery guys are looking really tired on their third or fourth run into the neighborhood today.  I’ve managed to wean myself away from Publishers Clearing House – and to answer your question, no, they have not delivered my big check yet.  That separation anxiety has taken a real toll on my emotional wellbeing, but I’ve done it.  I know – a round of applause, please. 

I wish everyone well once again in the New Year.  It can’t possibly get worse than either of the last two, so bottoms up to great hope and promise.  Should anyone feel themselves backsliding on their new year’s resolve, please feel free to contact me.  I’ll talk you through it. I’ll help you stay strong.  I’ll make up something to help you feel better about your failings. As Lucy used to regularly inform Linus and Charlie Brown, “The Doctor Is In.”  

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