The only New Year's Resolution I've ever kept

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Anytime I say, “I don’t like New Year’s Resolutions,” the gears of my brain start to whir furiously in disagreement with my mouth, searching for something I can resolve to do or not do in the next twelve months. 

You know those “IN and OUT for 2024” lists people have been making? Here’s mine, one week too late:

IN

• New Year's Resolutions

• The Muppets

OUT

• New Year's Resolutions

• IN and OUT lists

I say the Muppets because here is the vibe I would like to channel in 2024:

themuppets

A post shared by @themuppets

But I digress.

I’m drawn to New Year’s Resolutions, even though I don’t really believe in them, because…how could I resist the sirens’ song? Who wouldn’t want to suddenly become a better version of who they currently are? Self-improvement is the meal off of which women’s magazines dined (dieted, rather) for decades. It’s also why that guy who says you should get up at 4 a.m., lift weights while repeating “I am a man,” put wheatgrass in your belly button, and stare at the sun for twenty minutes has a successful podcast.*

* I’m realizing that description could fit a few different people.

Every December, I start to wonder about next year’s Charlotte Wilder. Could she learn to follow a recipe without messing it up? Could she start to run again, or would her back give out? Could she be more compassionate, or is she already adequately compassionate? Could she resolve to sing the songs from The Great Muppet Caper every day, or is once a week enough? Could she respond to texts when they she gets them, instead of becoming riddled with guilt as she thinks about how she needs to reply to them for hours or days before finally typing out a simple response?

Could she promise herself that, in the next twelve months, she will do these things simply because the number of the year has changed?