• Mohana Prabhakar

It’s that time of the year

Though I keep insisting that I am not too big on resolutions, I seem to want to revisit this slippery slope in the last week of December every year without fail. I didn’t actually remember that I had written about it in this column last year, but when it popped up daring me to check whether I had kept any or all of my resolutions, I had to read it.


It began really well. The first resolution was an immensely practical one and one I had fulfilled. I have disabled autocorrect on all my devices so that my husband is no longer called Shampoo and I am not Morgan’s.


The second fell into the ‘totally doomed from day one’ category: Get up early and go to the gym. To be fair, I did go but it was more like 36 days instead of 365. I have just again renewed my membership, so I am obviously the ‘glass half-full’ kind, or just delusional.


I did not use the word ‘awesome’ at any point to describe anything, exactly as I had vowed, but to tell you the truth, it was easy: 2017 was not really awesome in any way. I had also wanted to threaten away the most annoying ‘whatever’ from every teen and young adult’s vocabulary, except my 70-odd year old friend decided to adopt ‘whatever’ as her daily word of 2017. She does not respond well to threats.


I’d said I would always try to smile and if I try too hard and look like a scary monster, I would go eat something sweet. I don’t think I’ve eaten as many chocolates and other sweets ever before in my life. My husband just looked on silently, a bit worried but not brave enough to mount an intervention.


Of course this brings me to the next resolution. The plan was that in 2017 I was not going to stay away from things I liked to eat. In addition, I would try and make some sensible choices that would prevent me from becoming the size of a small house. I think I did quite well on that one as well. I have only achieved the dimensions of a studio apartment.


Then was the decision to no longer feel mortified by my music choices that would lead my son to say, “What is that? What are you - 11?” I am still embarrassed but I have made progress in another way. Last week, when I insisted my son listen to my current favourite song that is on repeat in my car at the moment, his comment was, “Well done, Mom. You’ve entered your angsty teen phase.”


So I have managed to write on the subject of resolutions without actually making any for 2018. Maybe I will just give it a miss this time. What are resolutions after all? An anonymous quote says it best: “Take up last year’s resolutions, reword it, yell plot twist - then hide it back again.”


Have a great new year everyone and may 2018 bring you whatever will truly make you happy.

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