It's that time of the year again. January 2, the day I resolve to do things I haven't done or to stop doing things I do. Lately, each year has begun with the same resolutions: I'm going to exercise more, lose a few pounds, get my house in order, read and write more and watch TV less.
Each year starts out with a bang and ends with a whimper. That's why I get to make the same old resolutions again come the next January 2. Last year, I recorded the days I exercised in a pocket calendar. My aerobic exercising and iron pumping was a regular routine until May Day. Except for a few outings on my bicycle there are a lot of blank papers in my calendar after May 1. I fell way off the wagon. Again.
But although this day could easily be declared my annual day for future failure, I celebrate it as my great day of the big past success.
In 1975, exactly 35 years ago to the day, I quit smoking cigarettes.
It was no easy feat. I went cold turkey. I went through a nasty withdrawal. I fought off capricious cravings for years. I know that I am healthier and wealthier for my suffering. Definitely wealthier. When I quit my pack and a half to three packs a day habit, cigarettes were 55 cents a pack. You could pick up a carton for about eight bucks. A smoker today, thanks mostly to sin taxes, pays more than that for one pack. Had I kept my old bad habit, I would have been burning up between $4,380 to $8,760 a year. That's two top-shelf 55-inch flat screen plasma TVs a year. Or an annual cruise to Tahiti for two. Or three months' worth of dining out at five-star restaurants.
That's a whole lot of dough that didn't go up in smoke...for one year. Multiple that by 35 and we're talking real money. So, whatever New Year's resolution I make today and break tomorrow, not smoking makes up for it. Still, I'd like to succeed at something else. This will be my year. Last year, I all but quit posting on my blog about halfway through. It wasn't my intention but when you've been paid to write for all of your professional life, doing it for nothing is no easy task. Beyond
that, the Wingnuts took their toll. The antics of the Deathers, the Birthers, the Tea-baggers, the Cheneys and their ilk left me dumbfounded and speechless.
So on this day, I resolve to get down to my fighting weight and get back into the fray. This is my first post of the year. Many more will follow. The dumbbells are calling me out.
Stumble It!
