New Year’s resolutions are dumb. My go-to dictionary says that resolutions are supposed to be “firm decisions.” Resolving to lose weight on New Year’s Eve and heading straight to McDonald’s on New Year’s Day sounds about as firm as cellulite.
I have a better idea. They’re called aspirations. Aspirations are a “strong desire to achieve something.” Now doesn’t that sound a whole lot more realistic and a whole lot less guilt-inducing? So go for it: aspire your ass off. Here are my aspirations for 2018.
1. Finish that bestseller.
2. Figure out how to get California’s greedy little hands out of my pockets: Apparently, claiming your feet don’t touch the ground doesn’t qualify as out-of-state residence.
3. No more BUIs: Blogging under the influence. After this one.
4. Finally get a colonoscopy; you know it’s time when your doctor threatens to sue you for patient malpractice.
5. Remember that Idiocracy is fictional satire, not a style guide.
6. Take a vacation. Seriously. I really do need to get out of town for a while. Where? Anywhere that isn’t here.
7. The wife gets a new car, I get a new pooch.
8. Listen to Treat Her Like a Lady instead of Smack My Bitch Up for relationship advice.
9. Try to go a year without breaking any body parts.
10. Not make the world a better place. Honestly, it’s just not in my wheelhouse.
That’s it folks; 2017’s a wrap. Show’s over. Time to pop the cork and move on.
Here’s to an amazing 2018! Happy New Year!
Image credit practicalowl via Flickr (no, that’s not me in the pic)