New Year’s resolutions are just not for me.
Maybe I’m a cynic but I’ve just never seen the change of calendar year as a reason to suddenly become interested in personal growth. The calendar is going to flip from December 31 to January 1 whether or not I resolve to cut back on my nacho consumption. And seriously, why would I do that anyway? Nachos are delicious.
Besides, resolving to change is exhausting. I’m already pretty burned out after all that eating and lounging around over the holidays so there’s no sense in making January and the return to the work-a-day world even worse by putting additional pressure on myself.
Change, itself, is terrible, regardless of the season and because I’m lazy (and also very stubborn) I hate it.
If I am going to change I’m not going to resolve to do so voluntarily. I will have to be forced into it and I will not go quietly. I will be pulled kicking and screaming into change but that’s about the only way I’ll do it.
I hate change so much if it were up to me I would be perennially 17. This is not because I was some sort of prom queen, high school demigod. (Not that you even imagined that anyway.) I can admit that I was just as dorky then as I am now and I spent the majority of my time in the high school computer lab obsessively pouring over page layouts to the school paper no one really read anyway.
So there you have it. If it were up to me, that’s exactly where I’d be: in a marginally well-stocked, Florescent-lit computer lab in a mid-sized Nebraskan high school staring at a smudged computer screen and muttering obscenities under my breath as I re-work everything the more junior newspaper staff members (in my opinion, but probably not in actuality) did wrong with their page layouts.
I dream BIG.
I’m guessing most people, if given the option, wouldn’t voluntarily return to high school. I’m guessing even fewer people would long for the time they spent in their high school’s dingy computer lab.
But the more I think about it probably wasn’t the computer lab I loved so much, or even high school itself. What I loved about 17 was the complete lack of change it provided me.
At that point I’d lived in the same neighborhood in the same town with the same people for as long as I could remember and that’s exactly how I liked it. The consistency was comforting. The steadfast nature of it all may well have driven a more adventurous person kind of nuts. But, as for me, I liked it. Quite a bit.
Unfortunately, it eventually became clear that I wasn’t welcome to hang around the high school Mac Lab post-graduation. (Whether I came to this rational realization myself, or had to be told this by someone far saner than me, I will not say.)
In any event, I graduated and in doing so was forced to abandon the Mac Lab in favor of a college in a different neighborhood in a different town with mostly different people and I hated it.
I hated it because I hate all new things on principle simply because they have the audacity to be unfamiliar.
But at some point, after the kind of persuasion only time can provide, I realized this change stuff isn’t half bad. And later, quite against my will, I even realized it may be good for me.
That still doesn’t mean I’m crazy enough to change voluntarily.
New Year’s resolutions for personal growth and improvement be damned, I’m going to keep eating my nachos.