A SLICE OF LIFE

Lori Borgman finds the funny in ev­ery­day life, writ­ing from the heart­land of the US. Now, if she could just find her car keys…

Friday - - CONTENTS -

Our colum­nist Lori Borgman pon­ders let­ting her in­ner su­per­model out in the New Year – but then some­one hands her some choco­late...

They say the prob­lem with New Year’s res­o­lu­tions is that they go in one year and out the next. There is a way out of that vi­cious cy­cle – only make res­o­lu­tions you know you can keep.

Take weight, for in­stance. Ev­ery year, peo­ple re­solve to lose weight. We’ve all been lulled into think­ing there’s a tall, thin su­per­model in­side of us wait­ing to be set free.

If there’s a su­per­model in­side me, I’m pretty sure I have de­stroyed her ca­reer with choco­late, cream sauces and pasta.

This year, I’m not mak­ing some silly res­o­lu­tion to lose weight. In­stead, I am re­solv­ing to help my friends and fam­ily gain weight, thereby cre­at­ing the op­ti­cal il­lu­sion that I have grown smaller. Re­solve smarter, not harder.

Take those res­o­lu­tions about get­ting ex­er­cise and sav­ing money. Why not com­bine two dreaded chores into the best of both? I re­solve to get more ex­er­cise by or­der­ing fewer things on­line and shop­ping brick and mor­tar stores more of­ten, cruis­ing up and down the aisles at a brisk pace search­ing for bar­gains.

Of course, do­ing less shop­ping on­line means more time in traf­fic. We live in an area with grow­ing traf­fic con­ges­tion cou­pled with rude driv­ers. I re­solve to be kind to oth­ers on the road who are not kind to me by telling my­self that they are in the midst of some ter­ri­ble med­i­cal emer­gency. I will wish them well get­ting to the hos­pi­tal in a hurry.

The new year also brings a push to read more. Turn­ing sub­ti­tles on while you watch a movie does not count. I read a lot. I have tow­er­ing stacks of half-read books to prove it. My prob­lem is not mak­ing time to read but re­mem­ber­ing what it is that I’ve read.

At the close of ev­ery year there is also a nudge to learn the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne, a melan­choly song that par­ty­go­ers around the world muddle through at the stroke of mid­night. Few know the words to Auld Lang Syne and those who do have no idea what the lyrics mean ex­cept for a hand­ful in Scot­land where the song orig­i­nated.

For years, I thought peo­ple were singing about Old Lang Zine. I’d never heard of the fel­low, but I pic­tured an old farmer in faded over­alls and a straw hat, stand­ing on some bar­ren acreage with a few for­lorn look­ing cat­tle.

This year I re­solve to not me­morise the lyrics nor pre­tend like I know the lyrics. I am re­solv­ing to sing my own song about a farmer who lost his land and his live­stock and is look­ing for­ward to a more pros­per­ous year as loudly as I please.

There is also a lot of talk about mak­ing res­o­lu­tions to get more sleep. I should get more sleep, but my body doesn’t seem to mind and the cof­fee com­pa­nies love me – al­though – I do some­times take un­timely cat naps. So, in the in­ter­est of self-care, I re­solve to get more sleep, start­ing now.

We be­lieve there’s a thin su­per­model in­side of us wait­ing to be set free. If there’s one in­side me, I’m sure I have de­stroyed her ca­reer with choco­late...

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