Thinking of ditching your New Year's resolutions? I nail mine! | Emma Beddington

How are your resolutions doing on that specific day (not scientifically speaking) where everyone gives in to the general bleh of the season? Maybe you haven't. The balance has shifted for a while, but it seems this year anti-resolve messaging is stronger than pro. With everything obviously terrible and every sign that it's going to get worse, why care? As TikToker @erin.monroe said, "I don't need 2023 to be my year, I need it to not be a soul drag through earthly purgatory." To which, amen (and also good luck).

Do Not Disturb celebrity endorsements are widely available. "I've been dogged by a feeling, as real as any part of myself that I 'should' reshape: I'm so sick of trying," Lena Dunham posted on Instagram. Happy Valley actor Siobhan Finneran sent in a question asking if she was making any resolutions, protesting that January was hard enough, especially with the self-employed tax deadline looming (I feel you, Siobhan). "To go without a drink or a chocolate is too much," she said. “Enjoying to finish Christmas leftovers. »

I realize that I ended last year urging everyone to become neo-nihilists and not to care about anything and I start this year to do the same; it has become a personal brand. But if you can't get on board with your pet just doing what they love, there are alternatives. How about radically downgrading your self-improvement goals? The New York Times says it's okay, in its exploration of the low-key hashtag #dontsuck2023. I tried "low resolution" last year. Mine was to buy a box of chocolates and eat one every day in January. (Smashed it!) This year, also devoid of any meaningful aspirations, I decided to bring all the clothes I needed to get dressed in the bathroom in the morning, saving myself the freezing walk in the morning. along the landing to find panties. Days 1-3 were fine, but I forgot my pants on day 4 and lost heart.

So I changed course and I recommend my new strategy to you: the non-resolution one. Why commit to doing something all year when you could only do it once, carefully avoiding the impulse to fail and then give up? Rationally, we know we're all imperfectly better - recycling more, eating less meat - does more good than a handful committing to absolute purity, but our all-or-nothing mindset means Veganuary is undone after a bite of buttery toast.< /p>

If you decide to only do something once, it's harder to fail. Given my general lethargy – I even brush my teeth sitting down – I set myself three very achievable goals. The first was to clean my computer keyboard. I did it yesterday, and if starting the year absolutely disgusted with yourself floats your boat, you're good to go. There's a healing shame in facing your filth - yours and no one else's - that's very January sack and ash. (Was that real ash on my keyboard? No, too sticky.) I Googled how to clean it, ignoring the "Don't let it get dirty in the first place" advice pages (of course, the nerds), then I ended up scrubbing it with soapy water, an old toothbrush, and a tampon because I didn't have any recommended cotton swabs or screen wipes. Yet it's decontaminated, still working (just) and I feel amazing: chastened, purged and with no intention of keeping it clean in the future.

Resolution # 2 is where to recycle my sons disposable contact lens cases, which have been accumulating for three years and are now a major tripping hazard. The last is to order a sandwich other than the one called Alan at my local sandwich shop. Alan's is an absolute fake - a deranged mix of mushrooms, olives, sun-reddened tomatoes, red onions and mustard that I ordered just because of his name. But now, paralyzed by choice, I find myself ordering and then unfortunately eating Alan, repeatedly. This year, it stops. And by "stops", I mean, I will try to order a different sandwich once before December 31st. My personal hashtag for the year? #dontsuckoncein2023.