The picture of failure. My thumb of shame.
When is a New Year’s Resolution no longer a resolution? If you’ve not kept up your resolve every day of January, is 1 February the Official Day of Failure?
I do not usually make resolutions (mostly because by the second week in January I’m so far gone down the rabbit hole of failure to change-whatever-it-is-I-resolved-to-change that I’d just as well save myself the grief and not make any). This year though. This year is different. I am 30. I am a mother. I am embarking on a journey to greener pastures which do not involve 15-20 hour days sat at a desk in a glass tower. I am driving my husband so bonkers that resolutions seem like the only thing to do to avoid divorce (though I dare say one would be hard pressed to find a family court judge willing to accept thumb picking as evidence of irreconcilable differences).
As if it needed any further telegraphing, my headline resolution this year is to finally stop picking my thumbs. It is gross. It is painful. It leaves me more susceptible to contracting flesh-eating viruses on public transportation (probably). It horrified me one day to watch as my 18 month old started picking at her thumb with remarkable aggression as I sat in the car next to her picking mine.
I cannot say with 100 percent certainty that there will never be a raw piece of flesh on my thumbs from this day forward. But I can say with 100 percent certainty that I will try. That’s really what New Year Resolutions are about, aren’t they? To try. To hope. To dream that one day you won’t relieve the stress in your life by tearing the flesh from your own finger tips (or is that just me?).
So. With shameless self-interest (and hopefully your interest as well), my answer to those questions posed above is no. As long as one has the fire of resolve in one’s belly, the New Year’s Resolution dream is still alive.