Resolutions short-lived since age 12 January 4, 2014 • Joyce Ore
As I was reaching for my third helping of shrimp at a New Year’s Day bash, who should I run into but my old friend N.Y Resolution. He looked like he had a stomach ache.
“Eat much over the holiday?” I asked while trying to catch the spinach dip dripping from my potato chip. “I have some pink stuff in a bottle in my purse.”
“You’ve done it again,” he said.
“Done what?” I asked while trying to reach the chocolate mousse on the table behind him.
“You are even worse this year,” he said taking the spoon out of my hand. “Every resolution you made at midnight, just hours ago, you’ve broken. You slept in until 10 and didn’t even walk that sweet dog of yours this morning, you haven’t had a fruit or vegetable all day and now you are guzzling stuff loaded with fats and sodium. It’s disgusting.”
“That’s what has you in a huff?” I asked, pushing him out of the way of the cheese and cracker plate.
“How would you like my job? he asked.
“Actually looks kind of cushy. It beats having to write a weekly column and worrying about spelling and dangling participles,” I said, looking for the crab cheese ball everyone was raving about.
“You have no idea what is expected of me,” he said, his voice shaking. “I have no more than one year to make the world a better place for millions who ask for outrageous things.
“People get excited about the possibilities for a few hours, then bam, they mess up a day or two later, leaving me with nothing to do until they beckon me the next year to go through it again.
“Do you realize?,” he asked pointing his finger at the cream cheese concoction in my plate, “how monotonous it is being a resolution for you? You have made the same resolutions since you’ve been 12 years old and haven’t kept a one more than a week. Just once I’d like you to try something different; to give me a new challenge, but I suppose we are getting too old to change,”
“Wait a minute,” I said, chocking on my sausage and cheese puff, “Too old to change. We’ll see about that. Next year … hey, wait a minute, I can‘t think and eat at the same time.”