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Saturday, January 01, 2011

Failure-lutions

Gosh, it's painfully predictable, isn't it?
As much as I think that new year's resolutions are stupid, futile, and painful ways to set myself up for failure- I find myself thinking "resolving" sorts of thoughts:

  • you've got to quit drinking wine all the freaking time. Too many calories. Not a good habit.
  • You've got to quit eating candy all the time. Too mmmmmmany calories. Not a good habit.
  • You've got to quit hauling old shit into here all the time. Too much stuff. Not a good sign of balance. A bit freaky, actually.
  • Your children lay around in front of the television way too much. You are a bad, lazy mother.
  • You should manage your funds better. Enough said, too ashamed to say anything more.
  • You should exercise- like manic. So that you grow some muscles and when you want to wear skirts in the spring, your thighs don't fall in bunches just below your knees.
  • You should stop being so hard on yourself. you should write resolutions like: This year I resolve not to diet; to always eat dessert; and to watch more television.
  • You should give up all of the guilt and shame in your life.
  • You should be less introspective. It's sad and pathetic- really.
  • You really should read to the daytime kiddies. Like seriously joyce. You should read a fair bit- like, how you used to read to your own kids. Sheesh.
  • You should sell some of your antique shit. You don't even want it all.
  • You should probably wear make-up or get a haircut, or liposuction- anything. Seriously girl- time tells a tale.
  • Your kids ought to do more housework. You're not equipping them for lives as adults.
  • You should spend more time with your parents. Ungrateful. Do you know how few people still have parents? sheesh.
  • You should write again. The way you used to, without a bunch of worries and constraints. You should worry less.
  • What are your plans for the darfur blog? Honestly, Kehler. Do something!
  • You ought to clean up your sewing room. It's disgusting.
  • And the garage.
  • And the van.

Good grief, I'm exhausted and I haven't even done a thing on my list yet. Maybe I should drink more and watch more television, go shopping when times are tough, and just buy a bigger bra instead of exercising.

How about you? How are you planning to torture yourself this January?

16 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love you...you are the best...well said!!

mmichele said...

Wow, except for the sewing and the compulsive thrift store habit ((:), I could have written this post myself!

(word verification? sated. Hmmm)

Jules said...

best thing i've read today! far beats the "happy new year everyone... its gonna be the best year ever!!" that i've been reading all over facebook. how do they know its gonna be the best year ever?? much prefer your realistic wisdom... lots of wine, lots of candy, lots of laziness and a humble knowledge of your imperfections!! now there's potential for the best year ever ;)

merry christmas, happy holidays, happy new year and all those lovely thought to you and "mr. hildebrand" from us all.

Judy said...

I started the year with failure.
Melted a plastic spoon right into my English toffee.

Things can only get better.

I could have written this too. But, you did and I didn't, so cheers to you and Happy New Year!

christine said...

i am an anti-resolutions person. and proud of it.

joyce said...

it's wonderful to know that I'm in such good company.
Yesterday I ate candy and drank wine. I also gave away some more of my stuff (a constant, strange binge/purge cycle), allowed an awful lot of tv (justified by fevers and malaise)and vacuumed.

That, my friend, sounds incredibly, undeniably balanced.

Then I went to bed and dreamed that I was running barefoot through hallways, stairways, and roadways. No top. No bra. No shoes.

yikes. what does it all mean...

christine said...

means you are free? have no restraints?.....have let go or have to let go???
shoot, there are so many possibilities! last night i dreamt i lost my children and my hoodie at church. the whole time i am in a daze lifting chairs and opening drawers. Quality dreaming.

joyce said...

nice..... but more like: Very afraid of being exposed, feeling very vulnerable. (I was running in the pitch dark, and so far no one had noticed my state of naked)

Your dream resonates with one of my worst re-occuring ones. Lost little babies, stuck on top of high cupboards, lost in drawers, stuck in the ductwork.

Oh, and I forgot to mention:

IT'S GOING TO BE THE BEST, HAPPIEST THINNEST LEAST DISASTROUS MOST PRODUCTIVE JOYFUL WONDROUS YEAR EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*shudder*

brenda said...

Will you let me know when you're purging yourself of the antiques so I can put on a disguise and go dumpster diving?

Mary K. said...

At the risk of sounding ultra serious or super spiritual... oh yes, and I don't make new years resolutions either, but here's what I've been learning lately. Not so much that God dwells in me but that I dwell in God. It's just a comfortable un-pressured moment-loving existance that I'd like to remind myself of regularly. Not to embrace it with great gumption, but to breathe it in and breathe it out.
Love you, Schwester

janice said...

I NEVER make new year's resolutions and I don't own a scale, so I don't know if I gain or lose weight. So there. Otherwise, I could have easily written this - except I never raised $20K for Darfur, so I don't have to worry about that legacy.

My kid does not do housework, and has moved out, ill-equipped for adult life, and oh well. She appears to be thriving except for the party like a rock star and don't study part.

Guilt, shame, introspection are close friends of mine. Sometimes I manage to banish them.

I ALWAYS enjoy reading your writing.

BTW, we KNOW this will be the best year ever, because this is the one we have to work with. Maybe by saying this we are putting it out like a prayer and it will have some influence. Please do NOT pull my head out of the sand. Naive optimism is sometimes my friend.

joyce said...

not to worry, Mary. Words of wisdom, without frill or fake.

janice, could you please blog? really. I love what you said about your daughter turning out- besides partying like it's 1989 and being naughty. And here's another thing- maybe you didn't raise money sewing even though you know how to sew- but this much I know: YOu raised that little bombshell BY YOURSELF so somebody should crown you a hero and you should be able to take the rest of the year off.

guilt, shame, and introspection. I was just guiltily thinking that I've had times where I'd spooked them off, and so how come I'm marinating in it again? And you know what's really ironic? I can see actual faces of actual friends/people who I think are so ashamed of me because of my repetitive, introspective, predictable patterns.

If I get a tattoo, I might have to say something like: Forgive Me, I'm sorry for disappointing you all, And I'll LIkely never Change. Can you just like me anyway?

I need so much more than therapy.....

(geez, I hope you people know that I don't REALLY take myself this seriously. I'm not actually m;orbidly depressed of self-consumed. Really I'm not)

joyce said...

And I'm not drinking wine today.
Nope, I'm having a caesar.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

janice said...

OK, guilt and low self-love are a part of my Mennonite legacy that I would love to lose. There are many other parts I just love (like God, Guardian Angels and Cherry Mouse).

Maybe I will start a blog. I have more-or-less taken the year off since the darling moved out. I love to spend the evening in my jammies on my bed with a book, the remote and a glass of wine. Now I feel better about that.

People do it all the time in blog comments, so I am going to say I love you: I love you. I do like your sister a lot too.

joyce said...

hey- guess what! I just sold some of my s*** on Steinbach online! So there. And I visted my parents, I sewed some, AND went for a walk.

wow.
hey- I think I love you too. But not in the: "I'm thinking of leaving my husband" kind of way.

Just so I'm clear...

joyce said...

oh, and Judy. I happen to LOVE plastic toffee.