In the days leading up to and immediately preceding the New Year, everyone talks about making resolutions, choosing words of the year, or setting goals. For the past three days, I feel I’ve been bombard with questions like “What are your resolutions?” “What’s your word of the year?” “What are your goals for 2020?”
ENOUGH!
Continue reading “Thoughts On the New Year (Or Why I Don’t Make Resolutions)”I still haven’t caught up to the fact that this is 2017. (I swear parts of last year fast-forwarded because they went by in such a blur.) But here we in another new year (and almost one month done of this new year). But where I would normally write about making resolutions on how I plan on eating healthier, organizing better, walking more, or keeping a diary, prepare for a shock. I didn’t make resolutions <gasp!> this year.
Every year before this one I have made resolutions. And then subsequently failed to keep every.last.one. (I think I failed to meet the diary-writing resolution every year since 1986). I not only made resolutions, I wrote them down, made check-lists, and used other goal-achieving strategies. I joined groups, tracked progress, and told others about them (for the “accountability”). But I still failed. Usually by March.
And failure sucks.
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