So, two weeks in. How are you all doing? All skinny, sober and speaking Swahili? No…? Shocker!
New year, new possibilities, new start. Blah blah blah. I, for one, can't be arsed. Every year we labour under the misconception that the New Year has the mystical properties required to transform our lives beyond recognition. I suppose our brains are so clogged with Christmas cake, cheese and chocolate that lard-induced hallucinations are not surprising really.
What is surprising is the timing of it all. Choosing, for example, to give up booze in January of all months is utterly ridiculous (and, ironically enough, is generally a declaration made whilst chugging New Year’s eve bubbles like they’re going out of fashion).
If we can veer into a little corporate twaddle momentarily (sorry, it’ll be over in a jiffy and you won’t feel a thing) let’s have a quick check if this is a SMART objective:
Specific – yes, in it’s stupidity
Measurable – only with tears of anguish
Achievable – not on your nelly
Realistic – see above
Timely – it’s January for feck’s sake!
January. The least popular kid in the playground, the Aunt that nobody likes, the traffic warden of the calendar year. Gyms are overflowing, pubs are deserted and people on diets are dull at best, frightening at worst (‘DON’T LET ME HAVE CHOCOLATE!’ they scream at you, a manic, stricken look in their hollow, joyless eyes). Why, oh why, would we choose to take away all the things that could help take the edge of the cold dark days?
|The term is HAPPY New Year.|
Don't take away the beer...
If you’re going to make a New Year’s resolution, and avoid unpleasant self-flagellation when it all goes to pot, keep it simple. The only resolution I have ever managed to keep was to floss every day. One small step for a small ginger, one giant leap in avoiding gingivitis. I have long since given up telling myself I will lose two stone in January, repairing my liver while I’m at it. It will never happen.
But if you’re made of sterner stuff than me and you’re sticking with the Swahili lessons, good on you. Here’s a useful little phrase to help you along…
I’d like a cold beer please: Tafadhali nataka bia pombe baridi.
|Now doesn't that look lovely...?|