Tag Archives: hairspray

New Year Resolutions: 😱

I decided to do something different this year. I made resolutions I knew I had a small chance in hell of keeping.

I will wear rubber gloves in the kitchen. This is a worthy goal, as it would save my manicure and aging hands. Many times I’ve vowed to do this, but then it seems like such a big deal to pull the gloves on.

I won’t eat gluten anymore. I actually meant to do this, but then yesterday our neighbor brought over her famous sticky buns, still warm from the oven. They smelled divine and tasted even better. Channeling Scarlett O’Hara, I said, “I’ll become gluten free tomorrow!”

I won’t look at Facebook right before I go to sleep. This is a really good idea because when I do, I can get so upset that I can’t sleep. So far no good.

I will keep track of where my phone is. I’d really like this to happen but thank goodness I have an iWatch. I’ve only had to ping for my phone five times since January 1.

 I will not rinse dishes or flatware before I put them in the dishwasher. My children assure me this is safe to do—they don’t understand why I wash everything so thoroughly before. I will try, but I just know the food will get baked on and I’ll have a heck of a time getting it off later.

I will start using the calendar on my phone instead of using my hardcopy calendar. Sure I will.

I will not use as much hairspray. This is another thing the younger generation assures me that I don’t need. But these whippersnappers don’t have my fine hair. They don’t understand that hairspray is my first line of defense against losing any volume I’ve managed to tease out.

I will not try to be perfect all the time. This includes not making my bed everyday. I don’t even know how I became a perfectionist—it’s not my basic personality. It would be perfect if I could make this resolution work.

I am not going to be as empathetic. You may be thinking this is a strange resolution, but I am so damn empathetic that it’s pathetic.  I’m working on not experiencing other people’s pain. And I’m not going to be as nice and polite!!!!

Finally, I am going to accept myself as I am today. This includes recognizing I’m a 74-year-old grandmother. My hair is thin; my body’s thick. And if people ask me if I need help getting my groceries in the car, I won’t be insulted. This actually happened to me towards the end of 2019. I laughed and said, “No, I’m good. But in five years, I might take you up on it.”