21 New Year’s Resolutions I Will Never Keep

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, largely because I don’t enjoy setting myself up for failure. But I quite enjoy thinking about what I might resolve if I had the strength of character to see them through. Here are a few that I’m bound to break in 2019:

I will no longer have a favourite cup for my coffee. All our other 15 cups are perfectly acceptable.

I will not trust Google Maps not to send me into a ploughed field.

I will not correct other peoples’ pronunciations, even when they say “nucular”.

I will not stack the dishwasher other than in the wife-approved manner.

I will not eat porridge with cream and kid myself that I’m going for the healthy option.

I will not rest until I’ve found a vegan hyena.

I will not speak ill of those who like Strictly Come Dancing.

I will not count the dead bodies at the end of every Scandi series I watch on TV.

I will not eat spaghetti and speak at the same time.

I will not discuss the unsavoury habits of our ancient dog over dinner.

I will not blame the dog for my own indiscretions.

I will not try and plough through crap books just because I bought them.

I will not worry about Alzheimer’s every time I lose the car keys. After all, at least I still know what the keys are for.

I will not think about dying more than three times a day.

I will not pack three pairs of trousers, eight tee-shirts, three pairs of shorts, sixteen books and the entire contents of Boots pharmacy next time I go on a week’s holiday.

I will stop complaining about boilers, washing machines and laptops having to be replaced every five years, because without planned degradation the economy would collapse.

I will stop complaining when my loved ones drop their phones in the bath, because that’s the way they’re designed. My loved ones or the phones? That’s for you to guess.

I will not curse President Trump more than thirty times a week.

I will not get over Brexit until either we’ve revoked Article 50 or re-joined the EU.

I will not forget, for one minute, how lucky I am not to be starving, in jail, living in a refugee camp or residing in East Grinstead.

I will stop dreaming about emigrating, because I’ve never visited a country that suits me better than my own, and probably never will. Besides, who would have me?

Thant’s all I can think of for now. Good luck with yours, should you be foolish enough to make them.