Which actually makes total sense to me. After all of the parties and time off from work and buttery food and sparkly drinks and putting off of unpleasant tasks, just going back to the reality of normal life seems like a kind of asceticism. Plus, of course, the new year is when winter sets in in earnest and everyone's gift-rich but cash-poor.
What kind of a person has the moral fortitude to stare January in the face and commit to going on a diet and a budget and a chore chart and an exercise plan and giving up drinking and smoking and transfats and going out? Nobody I know, I'm pretty sure.
And yet these people exist. I know because I read a million lazy human interest stories about them, and because the population of my gym doubles every January. Not that I'm saying making New Year's resolutions makes you a bad person or anything. I'm a fan of self-improvement, definitely.
I just feel like maybe it's a little optimistic to expect it to all happen at once, and also it's not fair that my favorite class at the gym is overfull for three weeks. You know? Here I am, just trying to go about my schlubby, non-resolved life, and there's some lady in brand new yoga pants with her weights all taking up my favorite spot. Screw that lady!
I guess that's what drives me nuts about the resolution people: 90% of them are going to give up on their resolutions by March anyway, but for those few months they are like the most pushy, self-righteous people on the planet. All "This year I'm getting healthy, unlike you sad old lard asses. Outta my way, Pork Chop!" Which great, Oprah, but do you have to buy the last pack of veggie breakfast sausage at the deli? That is my most favorite kind of veggie sausage.
Maybe the solution is to stagger resolutions throughout the year. So people with names that start with A-J can go in January, K-M in May, etc. That way, there would never be that huge rush of people to all of the healthy stuff.
Or, perhaps we could limit people to one resolution per year. I'm not sure how that would work, but at least that way, the "quit smoking" people and the "lower my cholesterol" people can co-exist happily, instead of fighting over the last bottle of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Spray in a nicotine-deprived fit of rage.
This system also has the advantage of giving everyone something to lord over someone else. I firmly believe that one of the main reasons people stick with self-improvement programs is that it gives them permission to think stuff like "Oh, it's so sad that that woman takes such bad care of herself," and "Tsk, tsk, Dunkin Donuts? Disgusting!"
If everyone only resolved one thing, then everyone would be able to look down on someone. Like Lady A looks at Lady B and thinks, "I may be fat, but at least I don't have to pay for my coffee in nickels," and Lady B looks at Lady A and thinks, "Geez, chunky, slow down on those scones. I'd rather be broke then chubby."
Everybody wins! Or I dunno. I don't really care. I just want to be able to go about my unimproved business without being hampered by hordes of the newly righteous. But since it's too late to implement either of my plans this year, I will just say good luck to you resolvers. Godspeed. In even attempting improvement, you're better people than me.
And if you stick to whatever it is you've promised to do, well, then it ceases to be a resolution and becomes simply a part of your awesome, healthy lifestyle. Just keep your mitts off the Boca burgers. Seriously.