Tell everyone you know that things are really changing this time. It’s 2014 and you mean business.
Open all of your mail. Recycle the junk mail and then figure out where to put all the important shit. When you can’t, make a nice pile on your kitchen table.
When you exercise, tweet about it. Everyone will know you’re beautiful and also that their lives are not as good as yours.
Stop eating. Just cut it out already.
Brush your hair more. Something as simple as some basic hygiene could really turn things around for you.
Check all the expiration dates on all your prescription pills and ointments. If they’ve expired, do some research online about how to properly dispose of them. You find out, but sending them to some federal office seems exhausting, so you keep them in a bag under the sink.
Throw out your slippers. It’s time. They stink and you bought them second hand in 2005.
Clean your tub. Stop telling yourself those stains are permanent. How will you know they are until you try to remove them.
Get a mani pedi. Paying someone to touch you is always a good way to exert your power and glamour.
Clean out your email inbox. This will overwhelm you, and you will end up on Facebook. So give yourself a new cover photo. When you search for images on Google there’s a way to specify “give me only the big ones that I can use as a cover photo.”
Text someone you haven’t talked to in a while and wish them a happy New Year. When they don’t respond whine about it to your mother.
Resolve to read more and join a book club. Don’t worry. This will involve copious amounts of red wine and absolutely no reading.
Say things like “I want to give back to the community.” Which community no one’s sure.
Buy new underwear. They should have expiration dates. I have underwear made by Express–Express stopped making underwear in the mid-nineties when they were bought by Victoria’s Secret. This isn’t the right kind of vintage.
Wash your sheets.
Open the windows. Get the smell of microwaved meatloaf out of your living room.
Read the NY Times.
Plan a vacation.
Anything’s possible. It’s a whole new year, and you’re a better person. 2013 is a memory–a story you tell yourself. No one needs to know about the cupcake popcorn you ordered online after you obsessively couldn’t find it at three different 7-11s. Much like the old you, it was disappointing and not the frosted goodness you’d hoped for.