It is 2018 and I am so screwed.
I barreled through the end of 2017 inundated with good advice and strategies to make my life better, happier, healthier and more fulfilling.
I read articles about heart-health. I read articles about exercise, coffee consumption, salt consumption, sugar, carbs, protein and alcohol.
I’ve been educated on the importance of friends and family and the necessary juxtaposition of downtime. I’ve learned about the requirements of perseverance and conviction to reach my goals, yet I acknowledge the need to be kind and forgiving of myself when I fail.
I need to count my steps. I need to count my calories. I need to count my carbs. I need to count my water intake.
Plus, apparently I need to relax.
If I don’t relax properly it will be stressful to my health.
I need to socialize and enjoy happy supportive events and cheerful laughing meals with loved ones, who understand me well enough to see that sometimes I need to recharge my energy alone. It is seemingly imperative to my health and happiness that I maintain these relationships at the same time I occasionally shun them for my own well-being. Sometimes, I need to be mysteriously yet understandably absent from happy supportive events and just sit in a dark room by myself .
Plus I need to have a pet. And plants. And I need to live in an orderly environment where I can find what I need without being stressed. But it can’t be too orderly because then my creativity will be stifled.
I woke up this morning. First working day of a brand new year. I am determined to finally get it all right. My new year’s resolution is to pay attention to my needs and health.
My eyes open at 9am. My lids flutter. I stretch my arms above my head. This is the year. Time to find out what is wrong with my left shoulder, my digestive tract, my eyesight.
That’s the New Year spirit!
I do a quick body assessment. How much did I drink last night? Enough to celebrate? Too much for my liver? Too little for my heart?
I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I guess I should go out and exercise today, setting myself on a healthy path for the coming year.
But it is so cold! Maybe that would be bad for my lungs. Maybe the cold will cause a spike in my blood pressure.
I stumble to the sink and brush my teeth. That’s an easy one, although I am careful not to brush my gums too hard.
I climb into comfy sweats. They make me happy and warm, but look so dumpy and lumpy I have to worry that wearing them will lower my self-esteem.
I shuffle to the kitchen. Coffee? How much coffee? Will there be cream? Sugar? Artificial sweetener might help with calories, but didn’t I read it might give me cancer? And what about breakfast?
Juice – maybe too much sugar.
Yogurt – the same.
Waffles – carbs and childishness.
Cereal – too processed.
Cheese – too much fat.
I stand in my lumpy sweats in the kitchen. The New Year has started and I realize I have both too many and too few friends and family to sustain me. I have too much extra time and yet not enough to successfully focus on a personal project that is both too big and too small.
I am at the same time too old and too young to succeed at this project and probably too isolated.
I don’t know what to eat. According to the experts, nothing is quite right. I don’t know how much and I don’t know who to talk to about it.
It is a new year. I think vaguely of resolutions, food balance, exercise, health, friendships, goals and fulfillment.
I turn around and head back to bed.
2018 looks entirely too confusing for me.