As we make our way through the post-apocalyptic hell-scape of 2013, I’ve found myself in the middle of several personal endeavors that could be easily confused with New Years Resolutions.
I’m not alone in this. The office refrigerator has been crammed full of tupperware full of salads for the past two weeks. The gym has transformed into some kind of bizarre observational tank. Hopeful overweight people in street clothes are given tours where they can watch the rest of us overweight people do rediculous things like burpees in badly fitting dryfit gear. It was the closest I’ll ever feel to being in an 80s training montage.
**Pro-tip:** It’s really hard to avoid looking like an asshole while doing hammercurls.
However, I don’t think of what I’m doing as correlating to the New Year. I tried to go through the whole resolutions thing a few years back, and I found that there’s no better way to give your hopes and ambitions a swirly than to stick them on some list of behavioral pipe-dreams at the beginning of the year. In my case, I’ve been slowly building up to this, and I happened to read some fairly motivational books towards the end of 2012. It’s not my fault that I realized just how badly I was sucking at some fairly important aspects of life when I did.
So here we are: I’m going through some kind of a self-improvement thing that’s easy to condescend to. I’m not afraid to admit it, even though I find myself rolling my eyes at half of what I’m reading nowadays. In fact, I’m resisting the urge to slam my fingers in my laptop as I’m writing this. But that’s the way of the world. Gotta move forward. Can’t just stay the same unorganized mess that barely squeaked through the first couple decades of life. Headway needs to be made! Wake needs to be created! Budgets need to be followed!