12th January 2017
I’m
curious to ask you all what resolutions you have in store for the New Year. Or,
at least, what resolutions you have for the New Year up until the 16th
of February: when the gym membership isn’t as sexy as it was when the ridiculously
toned twenty-something year old sold it to you way back on the 16th
of January, when you knew you were going to get into a shape deemed acceptable
by Who Magazine. Or when you realise being kind to everyone you meet is
impossible because some people are just downright dicks.
I
shouldn’t be so cynical. After all, a new year is an opportunity to start
afresh; a clean slate; a chance to redefine ourselves; and, above all, a
reason to raid Typo and buy new stationery. Even if we could have done any,
if not all, of those things at any point in the year bygone; there’s something
about seeing the date 01/01/2017 on our phone screens that instills a sense of
having gone back to square one, and having leveled up at the same time. It’s
like when a baby is born, I think. The parents have gone up a level in their life
experiences, whilst also gaining something so new, and precious, and full of hope.
Also full of poo and vomit, but also hope.
It’s
a lovely thing to be excited about twelve more months of living. I doubt many
of us can say that in June, or November, or even March. Well, I can, because my
birthday is in March (hint, hint). But you know what would be even lovelier
still? If we could harness our full hearts of January and ride the banger wave
(as my friend, Paige, would say) over the twelve months that we are now so keen
to be living for. And thus, I have a proposition. More to the point, my own New
Years resolution, which you would all do well to follow because, after all, I
am a lifestyle guru.
I
should add a disclaimer and say that I, personally, am skeptical about what
this year has in store for me, for reasons you can read about here. It’s actually
what inspired my stroke of resolution genius, but it wasn’t as warm and fuzzy
as the new baby analogy - lest I digress.
The
2017 New Years Resolution is: Fuck It.
Basically,
everything is way easier when you say: “fuck it”. This isn’t to say you should
stop doing your assignments, or bail from work. No, you keep working towards
those life goals, and saving for that first home/car/dog/trip to the Himalayas
(I believe in you). What I mean to say is, every time someone tells you that
you should be more accomplished, or more attractive, or more whatever you
obviously already are: you say a quiet “fuck it”. Even better, try an audible
“fuck you”. And every time you feel yourself getting stressed over something
that clearly doesn’t benefit you in the slightest - say it with me: “fuck it”.
I would give you a specific list of these things but I don’t know who you are,
and you’re a capable adult who, I’m sure, can trust your own better judgement. (Just
listen to the little Minions.)
If
these words of wisdom aren’t enough, I can also recommend yoga, green tea, and
vegetables. But no pressure. I also really like burgers and chocolate milkshakes,
so, you know. Just do you.
Oh,
PS. Another goal of mine is to reach more of you (now I know how to see who reads this blog)! Links to a variety of social media accounts can be found in the "About Meg". Follow and like away!
Reader:
“Oooooh.”