The clock struck January 1 and I tried. I really tried, guys. I bought a ClassPass and signed up for spinning twice, canceling on both occasions. I’ve declared a “Dry January” and already want to curl up into a ball and die. Do you know how much bars suck when you’re not drinking? Do you know how much all your friends suck when you’re not drinking?
So, I’m throwing all these stupid resolutions into the trash bin and starting fresh. I’m about to be 31, which means I’m officially too old to keep lying to myself about my glaring lack of willpower—let alone to you, dear reader.
Thus, I bring you: The Pessimist’s Guide to New Year’s Resolutions. It’s a bunch of resolutions I vow to really stick to, as I’ve set the stakes embarrassingly low.