Shock of the day: I have not been absent from the internet since Friday because I spent Saturday in drunken, debauched New Year’s Eve celebration and Sunday and Monday curled up on my bathroom floor in my pajamas surrounded by Gatorade, dry toast, Alka-Seltzer, and the stench of shame.* Instead, I’ve been absent from the internet because I had shit to do. Now, normal people can clean their apartments, grocery shop, and go out for a beer with their husbands without an epic attack of oh god how do I fit it all in?! followed by dropping a few of their hobbies (especially when they’re underemployed) but I think I’ve established nothing if not my lack of normalcy.
So welcome to 2012. Mine’s been pretty okay so far: I’ve re-started a volunteer project I dropped in November, got kept on by the store I was working at in spite of thinking I wouldn’t have a job once the holidays were over, and had plenty of time to chill the hell out with a beer and a book. Good work on the first three days, 2012. Let’s keep this up for the next 363.**
The only complaint I’ve had so far this year is the same damned complaint I have every other January: fucking New Year’s resolutions. Can we please put a stop to this shit? I get that it’s a nice, rounded-out time to swear up and down that you’re gonna change, dammit, and this will be the year that you lose ten pounds/run a marathon/eat well/read a book/take more pictures or whatever your little heart desires, but seriously. I can honestly say I don’t know anyone who makes New Year’s resolutions and actually keeps them or even, hell, goal-sets and achieves things the rest of the year. Maybe I just know people who have crap follow-up, but still. And it’s not that I’m anti-self-improvement. Quite the contrary – for all my ridiculousness here I tend to be full of goals and action items and measurements and work my ass off to be a better person, for both my own benefit and the benefit of those who have to put up with me. I just do it as needed throughout the year, not when I have a gluttony hangover from the holidays.
You know what? Fuck New Year’s resolutions. I don’t need no damned resolutions: I’m going to keep being fucking awesome in 2012. I suggest, my dear readers, that you make a similar vow this year. After all, you’re reading here, so you must be pretty fucking awesome to begin with. And screw losing weight, being better about going to the gym, learning a new language, or any of that crap. Do it right or don’t promise to do it at all.
* I always imagine this to smell like vodka, vomit and cheap cologne.
** Leap year!