One New Year’s Day some time ago, Mark Twain said:
Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual. Yesterday, everybody smoked his last cigar, took his last drink, and swore his last oath. Today, we are a pious and exemplary community. Thirty days from now, we shall have cast our reformation to the winds and gone to cutting our ancient shortcomings considerably shorter than ever. We shall also reflect pleasantly upon how we did the same old thing last year about this time. However, go in, community. New Year's is a harmless annual institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls, and humbug resolutions, and we wish you to enjoy it with a looseness suited to the greatness of the occasion.
This quote captures the man well — deeply cynical, but generally harmlessly so.
When I think about past years’ goals, the ones I reach are usually the smallest. One year I made it my goal to learn to poach an egg, because somehow I had reached my late thirties without knowing how to do it. I am happy to report that I am now a practiced poacher of eggs.
What’s the tiniest goal you have for 2023?
To keep the floor of my pantry clear! It’s basically been like a Costco junk drawer. NO MORE!
to replace my nightly routine of a bowl of icecream with a bowl of yogurt & fruit :’)