It’s a new year, which is a big deal to some people, but, to me, it just means I’m getting older. Like I need another reminder…
I don’t want to sound bitter. There are things I can control, and things I can’t control. Time, most certainly, falls into the latter category. So I try to embrace its passage, happy to still be on the planet, as tenuous as that existence sometimes seems.
I don’t engage in the frivolous but fashionable exercise of making resolutions. Let’s be honest. We’ve all tried it. And failed miserably. I’ve broken every one my new year’s resolutions, many within minutes of making them. I realized long ago I’m not fooling anyone. I’d like to tell you I plan to change certain behaviors. But we both know I’ll end up being the same old asshole I’ve been for a while now.
What I’ve decided to do this year is change my approach. As much as I feel like I’m spontaneous, sometimes to the point of recklessness, I’m also a creature of habit. I’m not too obsessive, but I do find comfort in routines. The problem with that is, eventually, every day starts to seem like the same old shit, because… it is. I’ve finally realized that the only way to keep from ending up with the same old shit is to start with different shit. I’m excited about this new path. And, despite the state of domestic politics, climate change and the millennial ADD epidemic, I feel strangely hopeful for the near future.
But I always try to be optimistic. To this day, I feel a glimmer of hope when I check my e-mail and find out there are still Russian women who are dying to meet me. And it’s reassuring to know there’s apparently some financial institution out there that will lend me almost anything short of the Crown Jewels.
And I’m pre-approved!
So this isn’t about resolutions for me. I’ve just realized that achieving different outcomes requires different actions. I guess you could say I’m… unresolved. But I do have some ideas on how to change my approach to some things.
I would like to see a different outcome in my personal relationships. In some ways, I would like to allow myself to be more vulnerable. I would also like to be less vulnerable.
I’ll let you know how that works out.
Just once, I’d like to pick my nose while sitting at a red light, and not randomly turn my head and see some supermodel-type in the car next to me staring at me in horror. Why couldn’t it be… George Zimmerman? Although I guess you don’t want to start a booger-flicking shootout with him. Ok, ok. No more nose-picking in traffic.
Just once, I would like to place a glass under the ice dispenser on the refrigerator door and not have a rogue cube go shooting off into some far corner of the kitchen floor. Screw the ice dispenser, I’ll open the door and stick my hand in.
I tell myself I’m going to eat better. You know. Healthier. More plants. Less dead animal flesh. But just once, I would like to eat spaghetti without getting that small-but-incredibly-noticeable sauce stain on the front of my shirt. So, I’m going to try eating spaghetti without a shirt on. No, no. Not really. Maybe I’ll just eat more slowly, and make an effort to enjoy my food… carefully.
Just once, I would like to be able to quietly pass gas in an elevator without giving away my guilt by giggling. I’m willing to listen to suggestions on how to change that one. Seriously, if you have any ideas, we should grab some chow and talk about it.
Anyone up for topless spaghetti?
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