Fuck Holidays and Resolutions And Bring Back Routine

Michael Buble took us into Christmas again this year, so I’m going to allow him to take us back out gently and buoy you with optimism for the year ahead with his classic rendition of  ‘Feeling Good.’

There was something very anally fulfilling about creating my new January 2018 folder for this month’s blog posts this morning. Admit it – how bloody wonderful is it to get back into some sort of routine – work not included, for obvious reasons – after the free-fall of Christmas and its many delicacies and indulgences?

While I do realize that some of you poor sods are still on family holidays, have kids at home, or are fighting to stay warm in the US – as I sit here trying to feel full on my healthy afternoon snack of hummus-on-nothing – our lives are almost back to normal. And I like it that way.

We are back to eating healthily again, back to pretending to exercise and work, back to trying to ingest more water than wine in a day – we’re even back to arguing about how often we can afford to turn on the air con in this heatwave. Yesterday, the old man mowed the lawn without moaning.

The Princess got her first proper walk of the New Year this morning, (and December, if I’m honest), and we even remembered her breakfast this morning. Even better – all signs of turkey and ham have gone from the fridge and we gave up on dry January jointly, with only the tiniest iota of guilt, blame, and self-flagellation.

I set my alarm for the first time in weeks this morning and wasn’t disappointed when it yanked me rudely from my perennial dream about not completing the final paper of my degree. Dare I admit that I might actually have bounced out of bed this morning, the lyrics to that Buble song pounding in my head – ‘it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life…and I’m feeling like wine.’

I’ve been on a walk, had a swim, put in a wash load, done a food shop –  an uncharacteristically healthy one by our standards as a reluctant nod to January, the New Year and those goddamn resolutions, but one that I’m certain will be topped up shortly with illegal goodies.

Can anyone seriously resist all that Christmas cheese on special?

I’ve even finalized the organization of our social life for January, which was followed by an argument with the old man about our aforementioned social life for January, after which I thought about wine A LOT, and stuffed my face with the last of the mince pies and brandy custard.

Fuck resolutions. Fuck starving yourself and scales. Fuck sacrifice. It’s a new year and guess what, there’s still time to reinvent yourselves, take risks and do something crazy. The diet can wait, the liver can cope, the kids will be okay. Seize the day, peeps!

Hell, I may even open my first bottle before 5.

2016 Will Be About Me

I’ve decided that New Year’s resolutions are just so 2015.

 

Ambition Key Means Aim Or Goal
Ambition Key On Keyboard Meaning Target Aim Or Goal

Have you noticed how women often link theirs to self-improvement rather than ambition? How we focus on the stuff we don’t do well?

 

Probably because we are continually reminded that we are not perfect.

 

And I’m the worst offender. The resolutions of my past have always reeked of what I can only describe as pathetic girliness; and I’m a feminist. They’ve been centred around how I can become a better mother, a better wife or how I can shape and improve myself mentally and physically into something I’m frankly never going to be.

 

They’re not true-to-myself, badass, ego-fuelled, man goals.

 

The majority of men don’t see the need to self-improve, which is why we continually have to remind them. They don’t settle for wishy-washy, politically correct personal goals for the sake of popularity and fitting in. Men put themselves first. They are aware of their strengths. When they go into a work review, they always ask for a raise. Most women don’t ask for a rise; they wait for it to come to them and they can wait a long time.

 

I’m not going to be that woman this year.

 

This year I’m going to take the old man’s lead and be proactive about me. I’m going to focus on selfish goals instead of putting myself last place in the family and career hierarchy, and I will force myself to eat kale patties as punishment if I ever hear myself apologising or marginalising my value or opinion again.

 

Because in the words of L’Oreal, ‘I’m worth it.’

 

We’re all worth it, ladies. We just need to make sure everyone else gets that. And I don’t need to set my goals down in stone because I am the only judge of any importance. These ideas that I have for this year have been exploding in my brain for a while now, desperate to be implemented; yet so easily thwarted by excuses when you’re a professional procrastinator like me. They are ambitious and tangible personal achievements that are unrelated to those defects of my personality or genetics that I have blamed for my failures in the past, yet can’t change.

 

I’ve wasted too much of my life focusing on what I can’t do and what I haven’t got, but this year will be about focusing on my strengths. 2016 is about not compromising myself anymore, not defining myself by what others expect of me, nor allowing my innate lack of confidence to sap at my powers.

 

This year will be about discipline, focus, taking those risks that I’ve benched for too long and seizing the fucking day.

 

I’m gonna be a BITCH this year. This will be the year where I nail every fucking goal and then some that I haven’t even thought of yet.

 

‘Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose!’ (Coach Taylor)

 

And I will start right now by going back to bed for my first strategy session.