Well, that’s Christmas over and done with... And what have I learned? Absolutely nothing. Which is why, once again, I’m starting to think about resolutions – you know, those New Year jobbies.
Every December 31, stretching back as far as the year I was 12 years old, I can remember making a resolution (although let’s be clear here, these resolutions are different to all those other promises we make to ourselves later in the year because these are ‘New Year Resolutions’. Whooooo....).
Yes, the New Year Resolution has a power all its own and of course it only ever revolves around two or three pledges – 1. Stop smoking 2. Lose weight 3. Get a better job.
Fortunately, I don’t smoke, I’m happy with my figure and I love my job.
Bingo! you’d think. Yeah, well, you’re not a woman then, because if you’re a woman, the pressure on you is HUGE to come up with a New Year Resolution, because that’s all your friends will be talking about over the next week or so.
“So Sue, what’s your resolution?” they’ll eagerly ask. “Mine is to have better sex with my husband! Gosh, aren’t I awful...?”
Or another will proudly proclaim; “Mine is to get a new kitchen, despite what Angus says.”
While another friend, albeit slightly odd, will announce: “My resolution is to give up eggs” (whatever that means?).
You may think I’m being over-sensitive, but I’ll tell you straight, if I don’t want to face social alienation, I’ve got to come up with a resolution, or no-one will have any need to talk to me.
And before you ask, yes I have scanned the women’s magazines, in the vain hope they might be able to offer some direction, but all they seem able to focus on is diets, diets and the ultimate orgasm. Hell, they don’t even mention holidays or makeovers.
So in desperation – and whatever spiritual power may exist, please help me – I’ve decided to claim that my ‘New Year Resolution’ is to be a better person.
Yes, you read that right – a better person...
Anyone hear a pin drop? Because you’re right, it’s dull. No matter how well meaning, it’s not exactly going to make it into the pages of Heat or Grazia.
Being a better person doesn’t look sexy, it doesn’t spawn a whole new fashion range and it doesn’t involve suffering, wearing one’s heart on one’s sleeve or those classic before-and-after shots.
Seriously, can you imagine anyone taking a photograph of me and claiming: ‘This was Sue before she became a better person. And this is her now’ (the first photograph showing me scowling and clearly selfish; the second, immersed in a heavenly halo while surrounded by spring lambs and joyous-looking nuns).
It might work on Harry Hill’s TV Burp but not among friends.
Nevertheless, that is my ‘Resolution’ and I’m proud of it.
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