in as much as resolutions were made to be broken, I’ve resolved the following:
I resolve to worry constantly about whether this shirt for those pants make my butt look big and not whether or not this shirt or those pants get me to the finish line.
I resolve to do nothing if I can’t do everything.
I resolve to worry about what I should be writing so much that I don’t write at all.
I resolve to make work concerns more important than family, fitness, me, or happiness.
I resolve to sacrifice my present happiness trying to control an unknown future.
I resolve to be annoyed when my cherubic seven-year-old has the audacity to demand my attention during the workday, and I resolve to feel guilty over every punishment we issue or decision we make trying to guide our 13-year-old to adulthood.
And finally, I resolve to beat myself up if I somehow managed to stick to any one of these resolutions.