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Every year I make the same few resolutions, and then blithely go on living the same dissolute life I’ve always lived, eating ice cream instead of broccoli and collapsing in the La-Z-Boy instead of working out on the Nordic Track. That doesn’t deter me from making the resolutions, but at least I go into them with my eyes wide open.
A few other things I don’t expect to do this year are getting up early, going to bed early, and doing anything in between to make either more likely. I probably won’t get caught up on my filing or keep my yard from getting overgrown and unruly. More than once I’ll forget to pay my bills on time. I won’t keep the bathroom or the kitchen (much less both) spotless and sanitary.
There’s a good chance I won’t wash my car every other Saturday, or my windows ever. The spiders in my rafters have little to fear from my broom, since I don’t think I’ll get around to clearing out the cobwebs. In all likelihood I won’t keep my email inbox cleaned up, and I won’t organize my CD collection.
I will also complain loudly about things I can’t do anything about, and look for someone to blame for things that are nobody’s fault. At times I will be petty and petulant and pissy, and every so often I will punch the walls and kick the furniture. When I should laugh something off, I probably won’t. When I should take something seriously, I might not.
I will stop procrastinating, but probably not this year.
If I do anything great or memorable, it will be an accident. Any contribution I make to world peace and harmony will be a by-product of my own self-indulgence, as I go on leading the same oblivious life I’ve always led. Unless, you know, things change and I actually keep some of my resolutions this time. But that’s not very likely. | 
