An Uncommitted Resolution

I have a confession.

I hate New Year’s resolutions.

It’s not that I don’t have goals or hopes for the next year. I do. But I’m not one to plan things out that far in advance. I’m more of a short-notice planner. I work better under pressure where there’s a defined timeline somewhere in the near future. To plan for a whole year? That stresses me out. 

What if I change my mind or life goes a different way partway through? What if I picked the wrong goals and should have been focused elsewhere? What if I fail (insert shocked gasp)?

Most people pick things they don’t stick with anyway. Why do we torture ourselves with this over and over? Why does January 1st have to be the magic day when everything changes? I’m more likely to start exercising in the Spring when the snow melts. I’ll eat less hot dish then too as I don’t need the calories to stay warm—I’m keeping my reserves just in case. 

Eventually the warm sunshine will return and call us out of our homes. We'll start moving more and eating less. But January? Blah. I’m curling up in my favorite blanket, pulling out a good book, and drinking my hot chocolate. 

Happy New Year!