New Years resolutions and why I think they're about as good as buying a convertible when you live in Minnesota.


You’re at the dealership, you’ve been thinking about this for a while, all year in fact. You set out to finally get the convertible of your dreams and it’s right in front of you. It’s something new, it’s something you’re taking the plunge on, but you’re committed to this brand new drop top. Fast forward a few months and you find that your convertible is taking space in your garage, collecting dust, because it’s become useless (aka it’s probably snowing since you live in Minnesota). It was a really good idea at the time, you said you would be committed and stick to using it all year, you even went for the snow tires, but really it just wasn’t in the cards for you. It was fun while it lasted, but that thrill faded as you settled in and realized that it wasn’t realistic for your every day life. So now you’re stuck with a shitty feeling (and a hefty car payment if we’re being real here) that you committed to something that you cannot keep up with. Sounds an awful lot like the outcome of a New Years resolution to me.

Why does changing the last number in the calendar year seem to spark a frenzy in people like, NOW is the time. Why not yesterday or a few weeks from now? Hell, why not never? Resolution by definition is a firm decision to do or not to do something. I don’t know about you, but I like to keep my options open. Making a firm decision for one thing or another seems like a pretty boring way to play the game of life. Plus, you’re limiting yourself to what you could learn about the other side on any given day. What if you change your mind? It all just seems so “final” and that word essentially means the end, so a resolution to me is definitely not a beginning. Maybe I’m saying that a resolution should be to not have resolutions? But that’s cliché as fuck, right. For shits and giggles lets say maybe I would make a resolution to eat less cheese. I start off strong but once I’m a few weeks in and the dairy deprivation has me in a tizzy, I go ham on a big block of cheddar. Now not only do I feel guilty that I ate all the cheese and left none for the others, I also have to harbor the guilt of breaking my resolution. I’d lie in bed complaining to Darin how fat my ass still is even though I passed the charcuterie platter at the party. I would suffer from fromage withdrawals similar to an alcoholic who just entered rehab. It doesn’t sound pretty. Where if I decided fuck resolutions and just said to myself, “eat however much cheese you want” we wouldn’t be in this predicament. My ass would be fat for good reason and I would have a steady flow of cream cheese in my system at all times. I would even realize that I could have days without cheese and then say, “wow nice work today, you had an apple instead of a string cheese”, and on other days when I Scrooge McDucked my way through the queso I could say, “wow nice work, you made that queso your bitch.”

And when it comes to those intangible resolutions like “choosing happiness each morning”, let’s not forget that WE ARE HUMAN and we don’t always make the right choice. For me personally, when the mood strikes, the mood strikes, so no I cannot firmly decide to choose happiness each morning. Yes, I would love to wake up alarm free with a smile on my face and have birds fly through my windows and drape my robe over my shoulders and I would proceed down the stairs where my husband has made me a calorie free breakfast and my daughter has dressed herself and is reading the dictionary. But that’s not what happiness even is, because without the birds, the breakfast, and the dictionary, most mornings I make the choice to be happy, and I am just that. That’s because, prepare to have your mind blown… happiness comes from within, not from anything or anyone else. So even if you wake up and feel like you just cannot hang with happiness that day, don’t beat yourself up. You can try again tomorrow because it’ll still be there.

Cheers to another year of health, peace, and love, for you and your loved ones. And no offense to any convertible owners or resolution makers/keepers. YOU DO YOU.

Oh and If I were to have a resolution it would probably be to give less fucks but per my first blog we know that would be blown by January 1st, 12:04 AM. #happynewyear

Giving zero you know whats is a learned skill, and I need some training.


Is anyone else of the breed of unnecessary stressors? I am very open about my lifelong battles with anxiety and while the big guys (aka the “out of my control stuff” I take meds for) are now bearable day to day, it’s the little guys that have been catching my attention. The small stuff that shouldn’t be stressful and doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but for some reason seems detrimental when it occurs. The things that make my blood pressure shoot so high that I want to run to the closest Walgreens and check it in on of their complimentary machines (I’ve done this before and trust me I felt like a fool waiting in line amongst all people who were 50 years my senior). Things like spilling coffee on my skirt while on the way to taking family photos and having to pull over to have an insert as many expletives as you can moment. Or going to hug someone I’m meeting for the first time and getting an awkward back pat with an “oh. ok. um. I guess we’re hugging” reaction and basically rethinking my entire existence. Giving so many fucks that a number larger than infinity would need to be invented to explain how many fucks I actually give at that moment. But WHY? For WHAT? I’m probably the only one seeing those things that way and then I’ve brought it to all your attention when you were actually minding your own and giving zero fucks.
So I took to the internet in search of learning how to care less. I didn’t relate to, and wasn’t entertained by such a modest google search, so instead I tested out, “how to give less fucks”. I was not shocked at all to see plenty of publications with “5 rules” for doing so, or doing it “like a Zen Master”, or my personal favorite, describing it as a “subtle art”. The gist of the little bit that I read basically said to take control over what affects you and reserving all your fucks for only the important things. Simple as that folks, take control. I can tell you I’ve been trying that for 33 years and look where it’s gotten me. So, in a fresh attempt to remedy the problem I downloaded an app called “calm”. It’s basically 10-15 minutes of daily meditation focusing on different areas of life. As long as I’ve taken my Ritalin, I can last through a full session while doing my makeup or checking my email. They suggest you practice in a quiet corner with your eyes closed, legs crossed, and no distractions. Not the same, but it’s a step in the right direction. Furthermore, I have only successfully done this twice. I want to be a “who cares” person, but it’s just not in my chemical makeup. I call nature vs. nurture on this one and nature wins! It’s hard learning the ways of a care-less (not careless) lifestyle without a glass (cough, bottle) of wine being the answer. Now that I’ve gotten this far in this post I am coming to the realization that if I can even get from a 10 to a 9, I’m one point closer to zero. In a few months when I can add in the wine or cocktail, which is an automatic 5 point reduction, I will have a below average amount of fucks given.
Finally, I read somewhere this idea that when dealing with conflict keep in mind that if it won’t matter in 5 years it shouldn’t take more than 5 minutes of your time. #timerstartsnow