NO ONE LIKES SOBER, SKINNY, PREACHY AT THIS TIME OF YEAR
JANUARY is a fantasy land where a new skinnier, richer and hotter you is still possible.
There’s still time to keep your new year resolutions to look great in tight white jeans, sing in tune and dance like no one is watching even though you’re doing Nutbush City Limits moves cheered on by a bunch of sandy drunk people you’ve only just met.
Yep, January is all about optimism, which is inevitably replaced by regret in February and depression in March. But for a few short weeks, anything is possible.
Researchers tell us that 92 per cent of people vowing to lose weight and save more money don’t keep their new year resolutions. I understand.
I’ve been at it for nearly two weeks now and all I’ve done is lose money and gain weight. That counts, doesn’t it?
Before I can lose weight, I have to get rid of all the bad food in the house. I am an environmentalist as well as a nutritionist, so this means I can’t throw anything away. I can’t start my diet until I’ve eaten my way through all the chips and chocolate hidden in my pantry.
I’ve also joined a gym but found filling out the 20-page online health status survey so exhausting and confronting that I was too tired to work out afterwards. But I did buy fancy new runners, which is a very important first step. (Knowing me, it will be the only step.)
“There’s always tomorrow, or next week or, next year,” I say as I wake at 3am with dried dribble on my cheek surrounded by Champagne corks and Salted Caramelno one Tim Tam wrappers.
Oh well, no one likes a sober, preachy, skinny, sanctimonious friend anyway.
To be honest, I’m not really the type for airy fairy resolutions. I will not wake up and chant, “Today is the day I am thankful to be me” in the mirror. Nor will I make sure I get a daily dose of vitamin G (G for Gratitude) or “dream it alive”. And I definitely won’t spend 2019 listening to my inner self, which is what Psychology Today advises.
What happens if my inner self is telling me to eat more cheese?
Other more achievable resolutions include buying yourself flowers, inventing a signature cocktail and adding more citrus to your grocery cart. Sounds fun, but I am not sure my life will be overhauled thanks to the presence of grapefruit segments rather than cutting up my credit cards and learning to say no to my children.
In 2019, I am going to stop asking my partner “who’s winning?” at the cricket on day two of a five-day Test. I am going to stop the kids from laughing when I get RSI when scrolling down finding my birth year in a pull-down menu. I am not going to comment when my daughter leaves the house wearing tiny shorts, a hoodie, long stripy socks and Nike slides two sizes too big.
I am not going to correct people who say they want to “loose weight”. I am going to carry small denominations of bank notes, so I don’t have to hand a $50 note to a 15-yearold and ask him for change.
And I will not make any serious resolutions so I can’t let myself down by not keeping resolutions. This is the only resolution I can be sure of keeping.