I haven’t done New Year’s Resolutions either, have I?
I cannot be bothered to look back at last years ones, which shows how much I must have thought about them.
I think there was probably the inevitable, must read the next volume of A La Recherche du Temps Perdu thing. I didn’t do it. I might do it this year, who knows? Meh! I did read other classics that had been looming for a while. A Christmas Carol, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. Not bad really. Considering.
I didn’t finish any of my cookbook challenges. Some days I barely held it together on the cooking front. Cooking and commuting around the county do not go hand in hand. I am just not that organised.
I did get one weekend away with Jason. I know I must have put something in there about going away with Jason. I always do.
One whole weekend. Whit woo.
Better than no weekends I guess.
I stayed relatively sane – although there were a few hairy moments here and there.
Not sure I put anything else in there really.
I have been mulling over in my head whether to do resolutions this year.
I do not, as regular readers know, go in for self punishing kind of resolutions. There are many reasons for this:
I can punish myself brilliantly whenever I like without a list. I have a very shouty inner me who quite often thinks I am a spectacular twat. I do not need to set myself up to fail with impossible demands and allow that spectacular twattishness, nor indeed the shouty voice that goes with that more ammunition.
Resolutions mostly fail. Who needs more failure in life?
January is a bastard miserable time of year, why pile on more misery by negating things and punishing yourself at a time when mostly you want to lie under a duvet wailing anyway?
It does not compute.
So, what shall I suggest nicely to myself this year?
I might go for a bit more self maintenance this year, although I’m not sure I can be bothered to be honest.
No I can’t.
The fact I’ve had to weigh up whether I will be arsed to pluck my eyebrows and/or buy new foundation means I definitely won’t. I just don’t care enough.
Yay – free from that burden.
How about this?
I will try to effect positive change where I think it matters, in a way that sits best with my tenuous grip on sanity, so that I can continue to look myself in the eye every morning.
I will try to have a less tenuous grip on my sanity again this year. I always put this in in some form or another, but I think maintaining a reasonably healthy balance in terms of mental health is a good idea, albeit for me, an ongoing fight. Last year there were less insane days pound for pound than the year before, although I noted as I idly reviewed things earlier that there were angrier days this last year. I do not know if this is a good thing or not.
I would like to be more hopeful this year. There were a few moments last year when hope died on its arse and had to be shocked back into life. I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.
I would like to be less sad this year – and no I don’t mean sad as in sad old git, who does she think she is? (I know who I am, I’m o.k. with that, and if other people aren’t, that’s their hard luck), I mean sad as in grief sad. It was not easy last year in parts, not being sad. Not easy at all.
I would like to find a way of living this year that doesn’t always feel like I’m constantly robbing Peter to pay Paul. I do not know if this is achievable. I just know that I would like it very much indeed.
I would like to spend more time with my family. I love my husband enormously. I can’t think of anyone else in the world I would rather spend time with. I love it when we are together, even if we’re doing different things. Proximity to husband is a good thing. I love my children more and more as they get older and I am less tired and no longer have to blow noses and fill my handbag with childish detritus. I enjoy their company. I feel blessed that this is so. I know I am lucky. Our holiday this last week has been fantastic, a truly pleasurable experience. I hope there are more of them this year.
I would like to spend more time in my home this year. I love my home. Sometimes I spend so little time in it it feels like a hotel. That sucks. That side of life needs a little rebalancing I think.
That seems like quite a lot doesn’t it?
Actually, I think it’s pretty simple.
It boils down to finding the mental space to be happy more often. That, when I look at it, seems to involve spending more time at home with the people I love and who I choose to have in my life, and less time running around and around trying to please other people who don’t actually matter in the grand scheme of things, and who invariably aren’t pleased no matter what I do.
It also seems to be about setting my moral compass so that when I do something I ask myself if what I am doing feels right. If what I am doing feels right, I should do it. If it feels wrong, I shouldn’t.
Easy peasy, right?
Or I could just pluck my eyebrows more, lose half a stone and read the next volume of A La Recherche du Temps Perdu.