The week after Christmas is nearly over (thank God, I don’t even know what day it is) and the new year is looming over our heads. With it, comes the insistent nagging that we have to better ourselves (new year, new me) and thus resolutions are formed. Maybe in an alternate reality we’re all perfectly honest and dedicated, but here on planet earth we like to lie to ourselves to feel better.
“I’m Going To Get So Fit. I Reckon I’ll Get To The Gym At Least Like…3 Times A Week”
Ah yes, what a classic. Year in and year out we convince ourselves that we need to get a summer bod stat. With all the holiday parties, rich food and copious amounts of alcohol we like to treat the first day of the year as a clean slate (even though our livers will be paying for the holiday antics for the next couple weeks). We’re determined to break out of our festive stupor with the aid of a gym membership we probably can’t afford. But alas, we march our tired bodies down to the closest gym, put our names down, pay the registration fee (dollar bills y’all), and walk out of that place feeling like a force to be reckoned with. In reality though, those three times a week will turn into three times a year.
“I’m Going To Eat Super Healthy. I’ll Definitely Be Getting That 2 And 5 Combo…My Plate Will Look Like A Rainbow”
We’re determined to treat our bodies like beautiful temples the moment we wake up on January 1st, despite chugging champagne like we were back in the prohibition era, having a cheeky tactical vom before charging on, and finishing the night slumped in a local Maccas inhaling a Big Mac the night before. While this resolution is actually a really smart idea that would benefit you greatly, let’s face it: the moment you start shaking from sugar withdrawal, the moment you’re too tired to cook after work, and the moment you realise there is a tonne of sugar in alcohol, you’ll probably ease up on the health kick.
“Ugh, I Swear, I’m Done Dating Assholes”
If I had a dollar for every time this sentence has passed my lips, I’d be able to afford a house in Sydney and all the smashed avo I could ever hope to eat. One moment we’re done with douche bags and the next thing we know we’re sitting on their couch trying to open up about a problem we’d like their input on, only to be interrupted a quarter of the way through because something super funny happened at work. You might look over and find them swiping left and right on Tinder because common sense is dead (can confirm). Or, if you’re really lucky you’ll be graced with the “oh, yeah, I’m totally not ready for anything emotional or serious right now…but like…can we still have sex though?” speech. Ah yes, how good is dating? Seriously, just stay single #wasteyourowntime2018.
“This Is The Year I’ll Get My Shit Together”
This one’s a doosey. As human beings, we’re programmed to lose the plot and make mistakes. The expectation of having everything together in the space of 365 days sets you up to fail from the start, and the entire notion of the resolution in itself is unattainable. Not one person is able to have everything figured out, and those who look like they do will often have something going on behind closed doors; they may be failing classes or battling with a form of mental illness. You just never know. It’s okay not to have your life sorted, what matters is that you’re doing things that make you happy and proud. Nothing can thrive in a stagnant environment and chaos is what drives you to come to your own revelation, take a deep breath and embrace it.
Image source: Warner Bros, Studio Canal and MGM