Happy New Year!
By Ross Turner
Welcome to 2019!
If it’s anything like 2018, it will be both over before you know it and close sometime in late 2035. But fret not; if the paradoxical currents of time have you feeling disoriented, it’s probably not that days-old mimosa you finally finished. It is much more likely the dizzying flurry of news, tweets, and arguments constantly vying for your attention. The country is changing and more divided than ever before, and every Tom, Dick and Harry is ready to prove it. So, in the spirit of retaining and regaining a little sanity, here are some helpful New Year’s resolution ideas for you and yours, for when 2019 is taking too long or moving too fast.
Less Face Time
I resolve to use proper and attractive lighting
I, _______, hereby resolve to spend no longer than four hours per day on Facebook, and to limit my political arguments to two. At a time. Unless people are especially wrong, because are you really going to let that go?
I, _______, henceforth resolve to Instagram no more than one (1) meal per day and to use proper and attractive lighting so that my minced jackfruit soufflé doesn’t resemble spoiled dog food. I will also sharply limit my use of the following Snapchat filters: Big Eyes and Mouth, Big Glasses and Freckles, Crown of Flowers, Crown of Butterflies, Crown of Thorns (alleged), and Cat Ears and Nose. Dog Ears and Nose shall be used exclusively for Good Boys of the canine variety. Face-Swap is always okay.
I, _______, from this point resolve to keep my tweets to under 25 a day, to master Proper use of Capitalization and Speling, to be more consistent and transparent in my lies, to make new Fox and Friends, to learn to President good like Putin, and to finally put Eric up for adoption.
Financially induced panic birdhouse painting
I, _______, solemnly resolve to get out in nature at least once a month, and to leave my cellphone at home. Well, maybe in the car. But I should put in my purse just in case. Hold on, I’m getting a call.
I, _______, resolutely resolve to pick up a new hobby this year, among them possibly: anxiety knitting, stress furniture-making, worry yoga, neurotic beekeeping, fret cycling, financially induced panic bird house painting, or CrossFit.
I, _______, resolve to resolve to meet new people, have their backs, help them up when they fall, carry them up wind from tear gas, bring ample water and protective gear, have a clear list of demands, make the elites tremble, fear nothing but fear itself, E pluribus unum.
You Can Do It
I, _______, here and now resolve to eat more healthily. I resolve to have a salad with every pizza, to drink more water than I get from opening my mouth under the shower head, and eat at least one entire stick of celery, for some reason. And, from now on, only unfrosted Pop-Tarts. It’s time to grow up.
I, _______, decidedly resolve to kick a few of my vices. No longer shall I have my pre-glass of wine before wine. No more will I procrastinate on the things I really need to do, starting tomorrow. Never again will I eat half a box of cookies before bed, even though they’re sitting there, right by the bed, right now, just waiting, so delicious.
I, _______, finally resolve to take care of myself, to spend more time around the good people in my life and let them know they’re appreciated, to slow down a bit and enjoy the small things, and of course, to bumble through my resolutions and sometimes fail, knowing I’ll get another chance soon enough.
With this exhaustive list of all possible resolutions in mind, there’s no way this won’t be your best year ever. And if it’s not, that’s okay. 2035 is right around the corner.