RETROACTIVE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS FOR 2016
Copying a trick I learned from hsifyppah, on New Year's Day 2016 I wrote down all my New Year resolutions and sealed them in an envelope to be opened at the end of the year. And now it's time to open the envelope and remind myself what lofty goals I set for myself back then...
---Rip! Tear! Flot! ---
...and---yes, once again, I somehow managed to achieve EVERY ONE of my New Year Resolutions...
Age by exactly one year...no, wait, done that before. This year I'll be ambitious and age by at least ten years and hit middle age early. Time to put away childish things, like health, and being able to dance, and outlifting the dudebros in the gym, and 20-20 vision, and a spring in your step, and not having chronic pain. Those things are not for you any more.
Lose the office you have worked in since 1998 and owned since 2005. It'll be easy. When your landlord wants to raise the rent $500 per month, tell them no. The kicker is that, they'll dump you even though they will be bluffing and don't really have a new tenant lined up willing to pay the higher price at all. For the last part of the year, work out of a tiny space down the hall and watch your old place sitting vacant, with your name still on the darkened windows.
Go into therapy. You will need it.
Go on antianxiety and blood pressure meds. You'll need those, too.
Plant crops. Harvest pretty much nothing, not even more than a week's worth out of the blackberries.
Follow Bernie Sanders as far as his campaign takes him. Assuming that turns out to be something less than all the way, you can support Clinton after the primary. While you're at it, challenge yourself and see how many friends you can lose in the process.
Cheer when the Republicans nominate a disgusting, unelectable six-foot, steaming heap of apricot-tinged feces with tiny hands. Learn nothing from 2000 and assume that a critical mass of the American people has so much as a shred of human decency and will not allow a disgusting, unelectable six-foot, steaming heap of apricot-tinged feces with tiny hands to become President.
Write 52 songs in 52 weeks for the third straight year.
Start wearing glasses because you need them to read, for the first time ever.
Discover that some of your professional colleagues, opponents and superiors, whom you've always assumed hated you or considered you a crank and a weirdo because of the way they've treated you for years, have actually respected you as one of the more capable fish in your small pond for you won't be sure how long.
Discover "emotional labor". Discover how much you suck at it. Work at it, even if it drains you and the important people don't seem to notice that you're doing anything different. It's a skill like learning guitar. Eventually you will at least be adequate, and maybe actually good at it in future years.
Mourn gracefully as both celebrity heroes and people you know and love die or suffer debilitating injuries all around you, all year long.
When tempted to do something destructive that you can't take back--and you will be--think hard about your wife and children who need you. When you think you aren't worth the effort for yourself--and you will---then do it for them. Especially for the little Dinosaur. He will still worship you by the end of the year. You won't know why, but he will.
Live long enough to open this envelope on New Year's Eve.
---Rip! Tear! Flot! ---
...and---yes, once again, I somehow managed to achieve EVERY ONE of my New Year Resolutions...
Age by exactly one year...no, wait, done that before. This year I'll be ambitious and age by at least ten years and hit middle age early. Time to put away childish things, like health, and being able to dance, and outlifting the dudebros in the gym, and 20-20 vision, and a spring in your step, and not having chronic pain. Those things are not for you any more.
Lose the office you have worked in since 1998 and owned since 2005. It'll be easy. When your landlord wants to raise the rent $500 per month, tell them no. The kicker is that, they'll dump you even though they will be bluffing and don't really have a new tenant lined up willing to pay the higher price at all. For the last part of the year, work out of a tiny space down the hall and watch your old place sitting vacant, with your name still on the darkened windows.
Go into therapy. You will need it.
Go on antianxiety and blood pressure meds. You'll need those, too.
Plant crops. Harvest pretty much nothing, not even more than a week's worth out of the blackberries.
Follow Bernie Sanders as far as his campaign takes him. Assuming that turns out to be something less than all the way, you can support Clinton after the primary. While you're at it, challenge yourself and see how many friends you can lose in the process.
Cheer when the Republicans nominate a disgusting, unelectable six-foot, steaming heap of apricot-tinged feces with tiny hands. Learn nothing from 2000 and assume that a critical mass of the American people has so much as a shred of human decency and will not allow a disgusting, unelectable six-foot, steaming heap of apricot-tinged feces with tiny hands to become President.
Write 52 songs in 52 weeks for the third straight year.
Start wearing glasses because you need them to read, for the first time ever.
Discover that some of your professional colleagues, opponents and superiors, whom you've always assumed hated you or considered you a crank and a weirdo because of the way they've treated you for years, have actually respected you as one of the more capable fish in your small pond for you won't be sure how long.
Discover "emotional labor". Discover how much you suck at it. Work at it, even if it drains you and the important people don't seem to notice that you're doing anything different. It's a skill like learning guitar. Eventually you will at least be adequate, and maybe actually good at it in future years.
Mourn gracefully as both celebrity heroes and people you know and love die or suffer debilitating injuries all around you, all year long.
When tempted to do something destructive that you can't take back--and you will be--think hard about your wife and children who need you. When you think you aren't worth the effort for yourself--and you will---then do it for them. Especially for the little Dinosaur. He will still worship you by the end of the year. You won't know why, but he will.
Live long enough to open this envelope on New Year's Eve.