By Lisa Dovichi
I’m not going to do it this year. I refuse. I will not get sucked in. Every year I do and every year I fail at it, miserably, on the very first day. The. Very. First. Day.
Naturally, I’m talking about making New Year’s Resolutions. Every year I make the same grandiose plans that most every other woman makes: eat healthier, lose weight, exercise more, dun dun dun…go on a diet. And like I said, I fail every time. Every. Time.
I have a great excuse, though. My birthday is New Year’s Day. The day we’re supposed to start the year with a clean slate and the high expectations of accomplishing our resolutions this year, I’m celebrating with cake, pizza, and all the largesse that a birthday is required to have. Talk about blowing the slate clear out of the water -- mine is circling in the atmosphere somewhere.
Sure you ask, “Why can’t you start on January 2nd?” Easy. I’m too stubborn and filled with OCD. Whenever I start something new it has to be the first day of the week, the first day of the month, or yes, the first day of the year. I find I have the most successes when I start in May -- whichever first I happen to land on.
Why can’t New Years be May 1st instead? Is that too much to ask?
So this year my resolution is to not make a single one…
I’ve failed again.
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