Having no plan, or pressure, or obligation to make new year’s resolutions is the type of liberation that can only be dwarfed by religious liberation. Or political. It has been about 20 years since I last made a new year’s resolution. I am recently liberated from religion and politics as well, and what I have been experiencing from these deliverances is peace surpassing understanding. You should try it.
Before the various emancipations, I would have insisted that I am not a judgmental character, that I am passive towards people who make set-up-for-imminent-failure new year’s resolutions, and in deed towards people who subscribe to the two biggest world parties, religious and political (I cannot help juxtaposing those two – such twinnies), but because as I grow older, I find small lies quite daunting, I admit to brutally judging all the above.
How is one expected not to judge people who like failing, because that is what people who make new year’s resolutions do? The same way with people who promise not to sin, or promise to support certain politicians through thick and thin?
But I digress. This was supposed to be strictly about new year resolutions. I checked online for the top five new year resolutions. They are boringly predictable; Eat healthier. Get more exercise. Save money. Focus on self-care. Read more. Why does anybody need a new year to eat healthier, or do all the above? Isn’t this just another way of procrastinating? A way of letting oneself get away with things they know they shouldn’t be doing, because they can excuse themselves by flimsy statements like, ‘it will be my new year’s resolution.’ What is that thing you are going to be able to do in January, that you cannot do in June? Is it that you are ordering for will-power online, and it takes six months to be delivered? Imagine if you started doing that thing in June – it means you are six months ahead.
I make resolutions, or decisions, as I go about life. If something bugs me in September, I refuse to wait for January to change it. Imagine noticing that you are adding weight in September and consciously deciding not to do anything about it until January. I have a confession to make though – my weight hugely influences my resolutions.
When I am unhappy with it, which may sometimes just be as a result of constipation, or even phantom weight caused by hormones, I start looking at life dismally and become over critical about everything. There is nothing like an impending love handle to get me making decisions like buying land in Kamulu.
I can think of a few resolutions I have made this year. When my favourite pair of jeans got a centimetre tighter, I became extremely averse to loud people, yet I am the first to admit I am actually quite loud. I resolved to fit into my jeans because I didn’t want to hate loud people. When one of my selfies ‘told’ me that my arms are no longer Michele Obama-square, I got impatient with people who repeatedly take every opportunity to explain to disinterested people that V8 is not a car, but an engine. Like anyone cares, really. I got so impatient, I resolved to tell them off, tell them it is old information.
This year, for what I consider very valid reasons, my weight has fluctuated. This very visible change has attracted those tactless characters who tell you about your weight as if you do not live in your own body. Irksome and offending individuals, that they actually think I am so blind, and detached from what is happening with my body, that they feel it is necessary to tell me about the shift in my body weight. I made a deliberate decision to be very rude to them, and it has thwarted others, because I think they have a kind of SACCO where they pass information to each other.
I also made a resolution to summarily deal with people who reply to group messages privately, especially when there is a heated argument happening. Do not trust this rumour mongering trouble making a lot. Reply with a rude emoji.
Happy New Year y’all!
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