Here’s the Deal: A Look into the Fine Print of New Year’s Promises

[aux_dropcap style=”classic”]L[/aux_dropcap]adies and gentlemen, gather ’round and listen close, for I’ve got a tale to tell of resolutions made and promises broke, but as the saying goes, hope floats.

As the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve, many of us promised to become better versions of ourselves. They say good intentions pave the road to hell and “New Year’s resolutions are meant to be broken,” but I say that being out of tune with yourself makes it hard to keep a tune. 

I’ve documented my journey towards self-improvement in a bi-weekly reflection to hold myself more accountable by sharing my successes and missteps. Another four days have passed, giving me another opportunity to take stock of life and see how much I’ve screwed things up since the last time. 

Hope may be the buoy that keeps our heads above water, but the steady strokes of progress, not the pursuit of perfection, keep us paddling.

A Fine Mess: The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

Thursday’s Tug of War

Last Wednesday night, as I gripped that karaoke mic, butchering “Buenos Aires” from Evita like a tone-deaf cat, I realized I’d been making promises I couldn’t keep. The time had come to face the music and own up to my empty promises of self-care. 

I’d pledged to be out of obesity by year’s end, yet I’d been a bit of a lazy lout all month. It was time to put my money where my mouth was and make good on my word to become heart-healthyI needed to return my healthy eating and sweating priorities to the top of my to-do list and return to my music practice.

The preceding week, Tiger, my partner, and I stumbled upon a new karaoke night, and we were thrilled to have something to occupy our Wednesdays. Karaoke’s my guilty pleasure, my chance to belt out tunes in front of a crowd. 

I’ve always had a thing for music, and this was the perfect opportunity to test the adage that no one likes the sound of their voice, especially me. We convinced ourselves that karaoke was “song practice” with the bonus of mingling with the hoi polloi.

I channeled my inner Pink and belted out ‘Raise Your Glass’ like it was my anthem. The crowd joined in for the chorus, raising their glasses and singing along with me. I felt pure euphoria—like an absolute rockstar.

Music has always been my melody, dating back to when I first picked up the clarinet in the school band. I was no virtuoso, but I couldn’t help but feel enchanted by the community that came with being a part of something. As I grew older, I started strumming my guitar, writing songs, and forming bands with friends who shared my passion.

And, of course, I’ve always been an avid concert-goer. From attending local shows to traveling to see my favorite bands, I’ve always found a way to surround myself with live music. The energy and excitement of a live performance, which I’ll always treasure as the soundtrack of my life, cannot be compared.

Alas, the week’s end began as it meant to go on – poorly. The previous night had been a nightmare. My feline overlords staged a full-scale revolt and decided 3 am was the perfect time for a game of hurricane tag. I was up all night, trying to calm or separate them, but they were faster than me. The next day was a blur of caffeine and dark circles as I tried to power through a long list of tasks while fighting off the urge to nap.

I’ve been a hot mess feeling guilty about neglecting my health, and the proof exists in my puffy under-eyes and the tightness of my clothes. I’d rather not revisit this sluggishness, a result of my neglect.

[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]Organizing our home is like trying to herd cats but less successful.[/aux_quote]

Organizing our home is like trying to herd cats but less successful. Tiger is a true whiz with a hammer and nails. He’s always been the brains behind our home improvement projects, from building custom shelves to installing…well…everything. 

He’s been a regular Mr. Fix-it with the big home improvements while I focus on the ongoing unpacking, reshuffling, and reorganizing. I unpack a box of books, carefully arranging them on the shelf with all the precision of a surgeon, only to realize there’s another box of books and no room for them. I swear, if I had to choose between this and scaling Mount Everest, I’d pick the mountain any day. At least there’s a summit to reach. 

To further improve our quality of life, we invested in a mini dishwasher and those curtain rods that make open curtains easier for shorties like me. We also procured a new portable washer and dryer, which saves space but means washing more often. At least I won’t have to scrub my unmentionables by hand. 

We’re not taking any chances, however; we’re keeping the old one handy in some external storage space, just in case of another pandemic or something. I’m not one to hoard, but I learned my lesson from the last; I don’t want to be caught with my proverbial pants down again.

However small, these environmental changes make significant differences. The new portable washer and dryer seem like a small luxury but save us time and energy. Similarly, the mini-dishwasher and curtain rods seem insignificant, but they make our home more functional. We’re both determined to make our living area a comfortable and functional home, one DIY project at a time. We’re a formidable pair. Together, we’ve tackled every challenge with aplomb, or at least with a decent amount of witty banter and eye-rolling.

Thursday’s takeaway: Having to realize my health promises amounted to nothing, but empty words was a harsh lesson in the importance of following through. The allure of belting out tunes on a karaoke stage with my partner may be a guilty pleasure, but it also reminds me that self-care and fun coexist. And as for my ongoing struggles to reorganize my home? Let’s say it’s a constant reminder that determination and perseverance are vital in achieving any goal – even if it’s just finding a place for all my damn books.

The Friday Fresh Start

Friday, I battled the persistent pull of hibernation, my inner critic harping on my fluctuating weight. I’ve learned that the battle against the scale is never truly won, but I refused to let it defeat me.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I’d tell myself with false confidence. “Everything’s under control.”

But my inner voice would scoff, “But things were far from fine. And nothing was, in fact, under control.”

Determined to silence my monologue and fueled by a rare gift of a peaceful night’s sleep from my feline overlords, I set out with renewed determination.

I tackled my delicate laundry with purpose. Between cycles, I dedicated at least 15 minutes each to learning four new languages: Spanish, French, Norwegian, and Italian. I really hope I never find myself in a situation in Norway where I need to utter the phrase, “Spiser de edderkopper?”(which translates to “Are they eating spiders?”) But if I do, I am prepared to comment on the situation.

Next, I turned to the dishes. I employed a new spray nozzle attachment to rinse dishes after each meal, loading them into the dishwasher for a quick clean with detergent and the push of a button. 

[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]I’m convinced that the screams of my inner demons power my elliptical machine.[/aux_quote] 

I even conquered my fear of the elliptical, burning over 400 calories during a grueling hour-long workout. I’m convinced that the screams of my inner demons power my elliptical machine. I felt the burn in my legs as I pedaled, my heart pounding, and the sweat dripping down my face. I did a variety of speeds and intensities, including some back peddling. But I pushed through.

Finally, I took time for self-care, cleansing my face, wearing undereye patches, and teeth bleaching. 

Each small victory boosted my confidence. 

Friday’s takeaway: Another day, another battle against my inner critic and the lure of hibernation. But as they say, “when the going gets tough, the tough learn to ask ‘are they eating spiders” in Norwegian. Each step brought me closer to achieving my goals or at least closer to fitting into my clothes again. 

Saturday Shenanigans

Friday night, we finally retrieved the last of my wardrobe from storage. We dropped off a dry cleaning bag for a much-needed spa day because nothing says chic quite like crisp suits and sparkling or plush cocktail dresses, ready to be donned 1for an evening of debauchery—or at least some indulgence. But alas, such finery would have to wait for another occasion. 

On Saturday afternoon, Tiger and I primped and prepared (in more comfortable attire) for our evening excursion to Queens and a night spent with dear friends. We carefully curated a smorgasbord of the finest snacks and libations to bring along: wine, sausage, and veggie nuggets. The night stood as a test of my dietary fortitude, a trial of my willpower, an examination of my mettle!

The cool winter air nipped at our noses as we made our way through the bustling streets. My stomach grumbled with hunger because I hadn’t eaten a morsel since breakfast—too busy fitting in a quick elliptical workout.

We rang the doorbell, and soon we were greeted by our dear friends, who welcomed us with open arms. As we stepped inside, a warm and inviting atmosphere of laughter, chatter, and the smell of home-cooked bread enveloped us. A sumptuous spread of food and drinks immediately drew us to the dining table, a feast for the senses; colorful fruits and vegetables, platters of deviled eggs and crackers, bowls of chips, and bottles of wine.

I grinned at ease as guests settled into the cozy living room and huddled around the coffee table. The warm lighting and comfortable couch made for the perfect ambiance, and the glow of string lights in the large picture window added to the atmosphere. The background music ranged from folky to funny, setting the tone for some lighthearted competition. 

Diverse personalities filled the room, from the competitive to the laid-back. The easy flow of conversation kept the night going as they engaged in a wild game of Cards Against Humanity, a twisted version of Mad Libs where players fill in blank spaces on cards with humorous and often offensive phrases, creating ridiculous and scandalous combinations that lead to laughter and shock. Of course, I participated in the discussion but as a contented spectator.

One host, an observer, noted that Gamenight was “An Excuse to Eat and Drink More.”

I succumbed to food and drank temptations almost immediately. The delicious snacks and libations proved too great a temptation, willing away all my willpower. I overate and drank too much until my dietary fortitude lay in ruins. The taste of the rich wine lingered on my tongue, a mix of pinot noir and cabernet sauvignon, and my belly felt heavy with indulgence. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony as I raised yet another glass and toasted my downfall and its delicious decadence!

[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]My willpower is as sturdy as a house of cards, and my dietary fortitude is a mere mirage.[/aux_quote]

Saturday’s takeaway: My willpower is as sturdy as a house of cards, and my dietary fortitude is a mere mirage. I had delusions of grandeur that I would be a paragon of self-control and discipline, but as soon as I walked into that quaint living room filled with mouthwatering snacks and libations, all bets were off. I need to balance indulging and keeping my health in check. Having a good time is about more than just eating and drinking. Keeping one’s health in check while enjoying the company of friends requires some moderation.

Sunday Serenade

After a fitful slumber, I woke with a start in the wee hours, my heart pounding and my mind awhirl with panic. Insomnia took hold, brought on by the overwhelming feeling that I had over-extended myself this weekend. I had been running on fumes, pushing myself too hard, and trying to keep up with social engagements and home improvements while neglecting my needs.

I needed to establish boundaries and prioritize self-care, even if it meant taking another step back. So, I decided to cancel my plans to attend a concert at City Winery that evening, choosing instead to rest and regroup. I spent the day in introspection, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of feelings tearing me apart.

I also declined an invitation to a celebratory birthday bash at the beginning of next month, choosing instead to withdraw from the social scene and tend to myself for a spell, even though I went against the resolution of saying yes to social invitations.

[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]I needed to put my feet up, sip some tea and be a hermit, even if it meant missing out on some festivities.[/aux_quote]

Sunday’s takeaway: We all need to know when to say when, and my well-being was crying out for a timeout. I needed to put my feet up, sip some tea and be a hermit, even if it meant missing out on some festivities. After all, there’s nothing quite like a little solitude to bring home how much you like the sound of your own voice.

Encore: Reflecting on My Progress Paddles

Well, it’s been quite a weekend—a weekend of self-discovery, growth, and a little too much brandy. I was living a classic case of highs and lows, playing a never-ending game of tug-of-war with myself, and I couldn’t decide whether I was coming or going.

On the one hand, I made some much-needed home improvements and returned to my workouts with renewed determination. But on the other hand, I overextended myself with social engagements, resulting in a bit of a yo-yo effect with my healthy habits. Tidying up the home and tidying up one’s health – two birds, one stone, if you will, both require a certain level of gumption and elbow grease.

In my floundering attempts to find equilibrium, I’ve realized that sometimes it’s necessary to put up a ‘do not disturb’ sign and take a hiatus from the hustle and bustle of social life, all in the name of self-preservation before I completely screw myself up. So I’m locking the door, drawing the curtains, and temporarily giving society the cold shoulder. Though I may be temporarily shunning society, I rest easy knowing that my home stands snug sanctuary and my window dressings are no longer a nuisance.

After my little wake-up call, I’ve decided to take my health by the reins again. One can’t pour from an empty bottle. While we should all take a good, hard look at priorities and devise a plan for self-improvement, let’s not fool ourselves; we can’t expect to make the right choices all the time. Likewise, I shall pick myself up, dust myself off, sharpen my wit, and grit my teeth to tackle both my disheveled domicile and disheveled habits, and come at least less disheveled.

There is no perfection here, only progress.