Resolution fail

Forgiveness, tolerance, patience, compassion, trust. It’s six days into 2015 already and I’m here to report to you that I have failed miserably. Perhaps this should hold the record for the shortest time ever from launch to fail for New Year’s resolutions, hereinafter referred to as NYR.

Caveat—I don’t perform well when anyone gives me responsibilities or creates any expectations of me. Apparently that includes me having expectations of my own behavior. My rejection of authority includes myself? Lord, help me. I make myself dizzy just thinking about it. It’s like thinking about eternity. The thought of eternity used to keep me awake all night when I was a young Catholic girl. Just how long is it? And now it’s the thought of me rebelling against myself. Where does it begin; where does it end?

So when I made the NYR and promised myself that I would be a kinder person in 2015, I was doomed to failure. Who started this doggone tradition anyway? I reject NYRs and all they stand for. Furthermore, I renounce every NYR I ever made and I call for the people to stand up and revolt. Stupid hippie, just sit down and eat your yogurt and be sure to throw in some organic flaxseed meal.

Note that my water supply switched from Falls Church City water to Fairfax County water in 2014. I suspect some sort of conspiracy that is affecting my thought process. Don’t even think of uttering the word senility to me.

Abject failure. It would be nice if I could really go for it and be a full-blown bitch. Sorry, it’s just ugly cranky unkindness. A real bitch would have done it with much more intensity.

I would like to give you details, dear readers, perhaps a more coherent explanation of how I failed. Nope, not going there. Suffice it to say, there’s a certain person in my life who tries my patience. I wanted my reaction to change. It didn’t change.

Could I have promised to lose weight or to exercise more? I wish I had—that would have been so much easier. But I would have blown that too. It snowed overnight. It’s cold and gray and just too wintery for me to have one iota of discipline. I shoveled out my car today so I could move it for the snow plow to clear out my space. My broom handle totally snapped off. It was a crisis. While moving the car I noticed I was driving by the grocery store. Sad grocery store—the floors were wet from the sloshy boots and there were few people in there. So I felt obligated to buy some Talenti vanilla gelato and some crispy brownie things. The crispy brownie things were on sale. It was the least I could do.

So . . . what to do about the NYR fail? After grousing about the situation for a couple of days and beating myself over the head about it, I realized I was repeating the same mistake I always make when faced with a dilemma. I try to think it through and come up with a reasonable solution. I rehearse conversations in my head and obsess about what I’ll say and do the next time. Silly girl! That hasn’t worked in the past, why do I think it will work this time? So I reeled myself in and said, “Lord, I screwed up again. My way isn’t working. Can I just give this back to you? I’m praying about it but remind me that your way is always better than my way, your solutions are always much better than anything I could devise. So, sorry, I failed. I’m giving it back to you. Phew. Thanks.”