N.B.: This is today’s second post.
This year I decided that, since new year’s resolutions offer far too many opportunities for failure and self-loathing and punishment, I would make new month’s resolutions. I have been remarkably successful at keeping January’s, which is “I will not leave dirty clothes on the floor.” Today I came up with February’s, which will be “I will not leave little pieces of paper in my pockets.” My intention and hope is that the effect will be cumulative, leading me to become, by the end of the year, a reasonably tidy person. I’m pleased, because both the plan and the resolutions themselves are specific and manageable.
But my friend L.N.’s new year’s resolutions are masterpieces of inspiration.
Two years ago, her resolution was “I can open anything.”
Last year, it was “Between any two options, pick the one more likely to make me pregnant.”
This year, it is “No thinking.”
Unfortunately, she is already failing miserably at this year’s, and last year’s wasn’t a great success either, but still, I bow down before her.
