I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions.
That’s not to say I think they’re a bad thing or worthless. I just mean that I’m not great at keeping them. I think for me it’s because trying to break an old bad habit or start a good new one isn’t best done in the depths of winter. I go into an odd kind of mood in the winter – so much so that I’ve got a special Seasonal Affective Disorder light – and I’m even more self-indulgent than normal and, let’s face it, weak. When it’s cold, wet, dark and miserable, I want to be comforting myself and not making life difficult. I’ve never dieted as such, but even trying to eat less or more healthily is a resolution doomed to failure for me, because I cannot help myself cooking or eating comfort food. I’m pretty sure there’s some evolutionary basis to this – isn’t it natural to try and fatten up during the winter? Actually, thinking about it, it would be more natural to fatten up during the autumn in preparation for the winter.
So instead of going for New Year’s resolutions, I tend to have my birthday resolutions instead, following my own personal new year, rather than the calendar new year. The period between 1 January and my birthday serves as a useful trial or run-in period before the serious business starts on 25 February.
You already know about one resolution, which is to update this blog every day. It’s already had a tangible effect on my internal monologue. Whereas prior to Monday I would catch myself sometimes composing tweets in my head, I now catch myself thinking of things to write here. Is that progress? I think it might be.
While I’m on the subject of catching myself doing things, I’ve had this weird feeling that I’m caught in some sort of meta-state and can’t get out of it. I think I’ve always been a relatively self-aware sort of chap but I’m often finding myself watching myself do things, if that doesn’t sound too odd. Like right now I’m aware that I’m typing away, blathering on in a kind of stream of consciousness kind of way, and I’m watching myself do it but almost as if my mind is one foot above my shoulder and my body is separate to ‘me’. I think – hope – this is normal to an extent; I just also think that I’m doing it too much and being aware of being aware of this makes it even more stupidly meta.
Before my brain explodes, I think I’ll leave it there for today.