The 12 Blogs Of Christmas 7: Resolutions
I was a precocious child. Well, actually I was probably just a bit of an annoying twat as a child, but lets face it, I’m a bit of an annoying twat as an adult. I’d like to think that it’s less so as I get older, but it’s an underlying current which won’t go away, and which I’m quite comfortable with.
The reason I mention this is that it’s January 1st, so it’s time to trot out all the old resolutions. For some people that is.
When I was the aforementioned precocious child, 14 years old to be exact, I made a New Years Resolution to never make any more New Years Resolutions. What a wanker. Not only did I make that resolution that year (of course it was my only one) I told everyone that I made it and have spent the subsequent 20 odd years telling everyone that when I was 14 I made said resolution.
Of course, the reason I still tell people is because I liked the idea of it, and still do, but the reason it’s annoying is due to the manner which I went about telling people. Just in an annoying, precocious, “why don’t we just punch that child” kind of way. Fortunately, then, as now, I was quite a big lad and people didn’t mess with me. Wise people.
It’s just an excuse really, to not make a list of idiotic things which won’t get stuck to and are faintly embarrassing to even mention in the first place. The reason I mention it though, is that I get annoyed at this time of year when I decide to do anything. As I mentioned yesterday, I find the end of the year a time to reflect and sometimes choose to get a little bit of a grip, normally at the end of panto, but essentially at the end of the Christmas nonsense.
I’m getting married this year (oo, how exciting, it’s “this year” now!) and I’m not prepared to walk down the aisle (or whatever it is they have in hotels) looking the way I look at the moment. Essentially, I’m a bit fat. OK, quite a lot fat, and whilst I carry it well (or that’s what people tell me when I’m REALLY fat) I don’t want to get married and then go on a hot honeymoon (temperature hot, don’t make up your own gags please!) being all flabby round the gills. Well, flabby round the everything really. So, I’ve got three months to slim down, which is easy. But I’ve got to get back to the gym, you see (it’ll all make sense in due course, be patient) and at this time of the year the gym is full of idiotic New Years Resolution kinds of people – you know, amateurs – the same sort of people who go drinking in pubs on New Years Eve (no etiquette at the bar) or who go shopping in the sales (no spacial awareness) or go driving on a Sunday (GET OUT OF THE MIDDLE LANE!!!!) and people like me (fat people) get lumped in with those part timers who’ll be gone well before March.
Trouble is, I’ve not been to the gym for a while. Regular readers (do I really believe there’s any of those out there?!) willl remember that I’ve joined the gym, but it drifted away when I went abroad for a week, then got back and wrecked my back and could hardly walk, then moved house, then started working 12-15 hour days for a month or so. Didn’t leave much opportunity to work out, and once we’d got well into December I couldn’t be arsed and was more interested in eating cake and drinking beer than flexing my withering muscles.
Therefore, all the staff in the gym will think I’m a part time New Year type and everyone who’s a regular will look at my ample girth and feel the same. Stuff ‘em. I shall start going regularly, and shall be emaciated in time for the wedding whether they like it or not. And when I get back from the honeymoon looking exactly like I do now, just a little browner, then I’ll be back in the gym at it again, except this time I won’t be surrounded by all the part timers, who’ll be back in their numb regime of non-gymming.
As for all the rest of you making stupid New Years resolutions, well, why don’t you just not bother. You’ll all be smoking, drinking, eating mars bars and doing all the other bad things which you love soon enough. You may as well save the embarrassment and just make like a 14 year old precocious boy and say you’ll never make another resolution. Piece of piss after that, trust me.