A Tentative POstponement of Sweeping Statements
It’s Saturday morning – or, at least, my body clock is telling me as such. In reality it’s gone five p.m. and I’m still in bed, consciousness newly thrust upon me, eyes squinting against the invasive light streaming through the gap in my curtains. I turn my body away from the light and bury my face deeper into blankets. I try to burrow away from the realities of the day – the need to feed myself, to put clothes on; the responsibility not to stay in bed all day. If I cover myself in enough pillows, I can hide from the piercing lights and noises. My phone dings cheerfully and the tone bounces around inside my head, seeming to slam against whatever brain cells survived the events of last night. I vocalise a nonverbal complaint. I am still wearing yesterday’s socks.
Reader, I am not in tiptop shape.
“I’m never drinking again,” I say.
“Never, ever, ever, ever, ever again,” I say.
The thought of alcohol makes me want to leave the country.
From now on, I text my friends, it will be just orange juice for me.
How did you get this number? they reply.
But still, life goes on. Your headache fades. You fancy a pint. I’ve got to the point now where I swear (sincerely and wholeheartedly) that I’ll never drink again at least monthly. How long does it last? Honestly, reader, not long.
And the alcoholcangettofuck mantra isn’t the only unrealistically hardline thing I repeat to myself. I’m also a big fan of i’mgoingvegan, iwillexerciseeveryday and nomorethrowingrocksatpigeons. Within a couple of days I’m sprawled out in an armchair, swirling a gintonic, trainers dustridden, fitting pebbles into my slingshot.
Well, no more! To err is human; and I must allow myself room to be a twat. From now on I will edit my resolutions. For instance:
|Veganism is the only moral choice and from this moment forth I shall eat only plants and their seeds.||It might be nice to eat 20% less cheese.|
|Alcohol is the devil and ne’er a drop shall pass my lips.||It might be nice to limit myself to a couple of drinks a time.|
|My body is a temple and I shall not rest until I am able to save babies from burning buildings and crush walnuts with my thighs.||It might be nice to do a sit up or two.|
|Pigeons are worthwhile members of society and I will no longer pursue them with violence.||It might be nice to verbally rather than physically assault pigeons.|
It might seem ironic that I’m making such a sweeping statement about never imposing sweeping statements on myself, but that’s life, really, isn’t it?