All hail 2014. A New Year has begun, whereby people the world over decree they are going to improve their lifestyle and turn over a new leaf. All except me.
Someone asked me whether I’d made any New Year’s resolutions this year. I said I had not, because I don’t believe in them. That revelation was met with a stare that I interpreted as “Pfffft. You’re far from perfect, Dawson, so why the hell would you not wish to change anything about your life?”
It’s a fair point. New Year offers the opportunity for Facebook users to whine about how awful or (occasionally) wonderful the previous year has been, and a platform for lying to their circle of friends about their good intentions for the coming year. Will embark on a diet. Will join the gym. Will eat fewer cakes. Will buy a dolphin…
Not me. I disclosed to my slack-jawed inquisitor that the concept of making a step change once a year contradicts continuous self-improvement; a practice to which I wholeheartedly subscribe.
And, yes, my coat is over there. It’s the one with “Corporate Tool” embroidered on the pen pocket.
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