I’ve been slaving over hot cooked turkey and slobbering over luscious cakes lately and somehow I still managed to lose a few ounces of the fat I have painstakingly gained over the last two decades. I think I lost it during the heavy sweating that happens when you bend over to take cookies and other goodies out of the oven. Then, I somehow managed not to smoke more than twice this year, which makes me rather proud that i made at least 98 per cent on my no-smoking New Year’s resolution.
Arrggh… and then there’s the resolution for walking around a little more to save a little gasoline and maybe a bit for the environment. That went out the window when the temperature hit 30 below. Watching less television? Naahh, there’s too little to do when it’s 40 below. Besides, hockey just might come back for at least a dozen games. Go to the gymnasium? No, that’s just a bit too much effort. I prefer losing it while sweating over some hot food.
So what’s left as far as resolutions go for New Year’s?
I tried to stop imbibing the morning after New Year’s. Or was it the following day? For some reason, I can’t remember. I know! Stop watching the news channel! Yeah, that ought to do it. Since I’m a confirmed news addict, I think I could do with a little less bad news once in a while. And stop watching the weather network; after all, it’s not like you can do anything about it. I guess I’ll try cutting back on stressful things like work. Yeah, perhaps that might cut back on much unneeded adrenaline. Perhaps I could perk up on the personal hygiene. Like shower at least once a week or so. I feel – and smell – better already.
I could stop chewing gum (since I don’t already, this resolution is even easier to stick to and thus, makes me feel better as a result, so it works). To make this even more demanding, I should say I quit chewing those stop-smoking gums, just to add a little edge to the pangs that I should be trying to eliminate.
Whatever my resolution is for this year, I hereby promise never to make any stupid promise I can’t keep, nor try to pretend I’m trying to quit something, when I’m really not trying that hard.
Aarggh, who makes up these annual rules anyways?