Skip to main content

Resolutions that Rock (at least for me!)

Every year I make at least two or three resolutions that I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to keep. Why? Because they're hard for me, doofus! That's why What is hard for me may be easy for you and vice versa, but we're talking about me right now, and I have great difficulty keeping resolutions that have to do with relationships, eating, showing gratitude, and a million other weeds taking up space on my crabgrass.

So I've decided that the only way to win at resolutions is to make ones that you can keep, easily (so help me god, cross my heart and hope to die). Here are a few of mine. Maybe they'll inspire you to create your own list of resolutions that rock (because you can keep them with little effort on your part)!

1. I resolve to get my money's worth of Netflix and any other streaming services I subscribe to this year. Vegging out at least one day a month should do the trick.

2. I resolve to use the electric toothbrush and water flosser everyday or until my teeth fall out, and, at the rate they're deteriorating, pretty soon I won't have occasion to use dental technology.

3. I resolve to create a unique diet that guarantees happy faces and easy meal preps; such diet will comprise a goodly amount of carbs of the sugary variety, baked potatoes with all the fixings, and killer burgers. Throw in some baked ziti with lots of cheese, and I'm a shoe-in to keep this resolution.

4. I resolve to take all my medications without fail and report to my shrink if the meds are giving me lousy side effects or aren't working as well as they should be. He will feel the immensity of my wrath if he doesn't remedy this situation pronto since I have my husband and six dogs on my side, and he has a chair.

5. I resolve not to speak to people who disrespect me, don't give a whit about me, are insincere and thus dishonest, hate animals, especially dogs and cats, expect me to invite them to have a meal at my house, or speak badly of other people I know (because then I'll know for sure they're badmouthing me too).

6. I resolve not to apologize for my dysfunctions, whether they be anxiety, depression or hysteria. For instance, if I should (God forbid!) have to euthanize one of my pets due to sickness, I will not apologize for being depressed, not wanting to do things and feeling irritable. Very, very irritable!

7. I resolve to read as many books as I want  irrespective of household chores such as washing, cleaning, and cooking. These books may be in any genre or media style and may be recreational and have nothing whatsoever to do with career inservice education.

8. I resolve to allow myself to age gracefully without artificial or surgical intervention--except I will consent  to such necessities as hair dye, facials and moisturizers. I also will look in the mirror only on rare occasions like when I get my hair cut or buy slacks I have trouble zipping up.

9. I resolve to not play depressive games such as "Is that celeb alive or dead?" or ask metaphysical questions such as how many chin hairs can you pluck in the time it takes to ponder whether those chin hairs have migrated from the nether regions (ie the pudenda).

10 And finally I resolve to make progress toward embracing world peace, nuclear disarmament, racial tolerance, and cleaning my office.

I know I've already wished everyone Happy New Year from the Dysfunctional Family, but Janice has to stick her two cents in also,so here goes the Big Ditto: Happy New YEAR FROM THE BLOGGER HERSELF, JANICE ANN MOSTER ARENOFSKY.  There, now you know all my secrets.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Got Fired by My Doctor

Full disclosure: I hate going to doctors, but at least for half of my life, I did the "right" thing. What is the right thing? I got all the tests, got biopsies when necessary, and submitted to scales, blood pressure cuffs and gynecological exams. Then when my mental health went south, I didn't have the energy to pursue a never-ending stream of mammograms, colonoscopies and the like. I was like flat out unenthusiastic about filling my days with terrifying tests that would only upset my balance even more. What I needed were happy books, films, and lots of anti-depressant medications. Not mornings when all I might have to look forward to were stirrups, speculums, and a professional's finger up my ass.
Okay, so I gave up worrying and thinking about my health insofar as tests and doctor visits were concerned. I still took care of my health in a minimal way--I brushed my teeth, saw the dentist regularly, and showered when I had to wash or dye my hair. And I still went to …

OCD and Co.

I can only speak for my own brand of #OCD. I'm not #HowieMandel who has come clean (metamorphically and literally) regarding his #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder, and right now I can't think of any other celebs who have been tortured by this anxiety disorder. You may think it's all about checking doors and stoves or counting the number of times you must touch a wall. Or you may think it's a clean-freak disorder in which you must wash your hands a certain number of times or take a shower five times a day until you feel the ugly nervous gnawing in your throat disappear.


Well, my type of #OCD was like none of the above. It's probably not unique in psychiatric circles, but I have never met anyone who behaved in a manner similar to mine. Of course, few people would telegraph this #disorder since it's nothing you'll ever win awards for.  First off, as far as I can figure, my OCD came as the direct result of way too much #anxiety. Some of the #anxiety was genetic, an…

These Shoes are Meant for Walking

Yup. Those are shoes that my parents got bronzed when I was just a walking, talking chip off the old dysfunctional block. After I inherited them from my sister--the one affected by Only Child Syndrome--I placed them on my dining room hutch near the pewter candlesticks. Now they collect dust together. Naturally my sister kept her pair of booties and I assume they're catching dust somewhere in her house. I imagine she'll pass them down to one of her lucky kids, who will in turn put them on a shelf to collect dust. The pair are impossible to throw away--there must be some curse that befalls ungrateful children unwilling to properly revere family heirlooms--but no one quite knows what to do with them. Stick them in the bathroom? Maybe. They might pass for Odd Objets d"Art to note while on the Royal Throne. That would be one thought. Or how about pawning them off on my husband. He could decorate his office with them. They would join the approximately 2,000 other tchochkes (G…