Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Why I Don't Make New Year's Resolutions

It's January 30. 

Are you scratching your head, wondering why on earth I'm talking about New Year's Resolutions?  I know you are, so Thank You!  You have just proven the point of this blog post.

And that point is:  No one thinks about New Year's Resolutions after the new year.  Or before the new year, for that matter.  The only time we ever see, hear, or read anything about NYRs (sorry, I got tired of typing out New Year's Resolutions) is on December 31 and January 1.  You might quite possibly hear about it on January 2 or 3 from those Polly Perky Over-Achievers who blog about every single success in their life, from their flawless appearance to their lavishly decorated houses to their perfectly-behaved Stepford children.  (Side note:  If you are one of those perfect women and you are reading my blog, Welcome!  I'm glad you stopped by.  But still, I hate you.) 

No one takes NYRs seriously!

Let's look, for example, at my own failures at following through with NYRs.  Since I am FAT, and have been for many years, I usually think about trying to lose weight.  So, here's the scenarioI don't ever try to lose weight during the holiday season.  If I did, those around me might try to have me committed.  So, in the past, I have actually tried to make one of those silly NYRs.  This is how it usually plays out:

I decide that, as of January 1, I will become a new ME! 

January 1 rolls around and guess what?  I don't feel any different.  I don't feel like Jillian Michaels is inside of me, waiting to get out.  Instead I'm usually sleeping half the day and waking up with a hangover.  To be honest, it has been about 20 days years since I had a hangover from alcohol.  Nowadays, it's a sugar hangover.  And we all know the best cure for a hangover - have some more of what made you hung over in the first place.  So I race around the house like a rabid little rodent, trying to find the last bits of sugar from the holiday gluttony.  

Thus, January 1 is always a failure of epic proportions.

January 2 comes along.  I have to begin to face reality.  The holidays are over and I have to become a productive human being again, even in spite of my repeated letters to the President and Congress requesting that we change the entire American system so we get a hibernation break. But no, they have done nothing to appease my desire to sleep for months at a time.  


By January 3 or 4, reality truly hits me in the face.  The kids are going back to school.  The hubby is going back to work.  I should start thinking about this NYR that I foolishly made a few days back, most likely while under the influence of sugar.  But I don't FEEL like making any changes to my dietary habits or my non-existent exercise routines.  You know what?  I'll just wait until after my birthday, January 14.  

January 15.  I have spent the last 5 days preparing for and celebrating my birthday.  I have eaten 3 whole cakes, a gallon of ice cream, and enough nachos to serve at a sports bar on Super Bowl Sunday. 

Hmm, maybe I'll just wait until the beginning of Lent.  That usually comes in mid-February.  Not only does it buy me some time to get serious about my NYR, it also has a spiritual component that will make me feel guilty about eating anything that tastes good.

Ash Wednesday.  I try to fast for a few minutes hours, but it's just too hard.  I eat the emergency stash of Oreos.

Lent is 40 days long.  I manage to steer clear of sweets for about 3.89 of them.  And I decide that this really isn't the time to think about weight loss - my focus should be on more spiritual things during this time.

Easter arrives and of course, I have a new lease on life.    There is chocolate and sugar everywhere.  In my church tradition, Easter lasts for 50 days, and it would be unheard of to diet and fast during the Easter season.  Better wait until Pentecost.

For those of you who don't know, Pentecost usually lands some time in May.  That puts me almost half-way through the year.  

At that point, there is no way I even remember my New Year's Resolution.

Oh well, there's always next year.