I hate them. Every year I make them. Every year I break them. Perhaps my resolutions are just too much, too far a stretch to conquer. This year I went the simple route. I made no resolutions. You heard me correctly, my peeps. None. Nada. Zilch. Finally a life of simplicity and order without the stress and anxiety of worthless New Year’s resolutions. I feel empowered and lucky already and to think, I ate not a single black eyed pea. With careful trepidation, I am wading out into the unknown shuffling through the muddy bottom with the anticipation of landing square on a stingray. Such would be my luck. Whatever, this year, I don’t care. The stingray bite will heel, as will I. So I have devised a new plan, a sure bet to success.
The secret lies within the Lenten season. I know, I am the last one who should preach, but if you know me at all, you know I am a very strong willed person. Ok, stubborn ass is the term most often used by my G. Every year, I devote this tiny block of 40 days to my only spiritual action of the entire year (sadly) and look upon this as a serious undertaking. Typically I forego my incessant addiction to Diet Dr. Pepper only to become addicted to Diet Snapple as a substitute. This year I am going for broke. The combination of resolutions and Lenten sacrifice is my ticket. I can’t believe I am actually publishing this idea, for now it shall tie my soul to this endeavor until being released by the jubilation of Easter. Oy Vei. I refuse to spill my guts and tell all. But suffice it to say, it involves three very prominent indulgent behaviors in my life (get your mind out of the gutter). I will let you know the outcome when the time is right. Until then, shalom my good friends…good luck with your resolutions. I have all the faith in the world you will succeed.