It's that time again, the end-of-the-year, assess-where-you're-at-and-decide-to-make-some-big-life-changes time. I've been through this routine before, like, 20 times, and I can happily report that I have never, not once, stuck to any of my New Year's resolutions.

So this year, I'm going with the jujitsu approach. Rather than setting unrealistic goals that will only fuel my (already raging) furnace of self-hatred, I'm embracing the force of my own dysfunction.

In other words, this year, I'll be making resolutions that I'm pretty sure I can nail.

1) Keep old grudges alive.

For far too long, I have looked upon my seemingly bottomless well of hatred as a "negative." But actually, I find hatred quite galvanizing. This is especially true when I consider those people against whom I hold grudges. To forgive this sizable population would not only force me to swallow my rage, it would send the message that they have somehow changed for the better. Or, worse yet, it would compel them to believe that they were "right all along," and thereby make them even more smug. Can you see how wrong it would be to allow this?

2) Maximize procrastination.

We can't all be super-efficient little time soldiers, and most of the people who are make lousy company. Consider the fascists. Or anyone with a Palm Pilot. The time has come for me to accept that I need nine or 10 hours of unstructured play time before I can be expected to enter the temple of my writer space. And you know what? That's okay.

3) Eat more fries.

Every time I pass by McDonald's on my way home, I get this insane craving for fries. I never go in, though, because fatty foods clog your arteries, and also because, as we good liberals all know, the fast-food industry is basically Saddam Hussein with a Fry-o-lator. But wait a second. Let's be honest here. We're all going to die sooner or later. And what's more, fast food has already won the war. Half the country is supersize. So why am I denying myself this simple, saturated-fat pleasure? For the same reason you losers are: because I'm afraid to trust my gut.

4) Spend less time with family.

I don't know about you, but every time I hang out with my family, it just screws me up. For the next week, I feel like I'm 13 years old again: besieged by self-doubt and blackheads. Over the years, I've come to realize that my relatives don't even mean to screw me up. It's just something they're programmed to do. So, rather than visiting them based on some masochistic sense of obligation, I'm saving my money for a trip to Amsterdam, where they sell hash brownies right in the cafés.

5) Take less joy in the moment.

I have a hard enough time taking joy in any old circumstance. I certainly don't need additional time-frame pressure. Besides, "the moment" has always struck me as a dubious concept anyway, in that people are constantly talking about it, but never in such a way that you can understand what they mean. In this way, "the moment" is kind of like "the G-spot," or "the zone" -- it exists only because the people on daytime television tell you it does.

6) Eliminate the positive people in my life.

I'm just tired of them. I realize it's not their fault (necessarily), but positive people make me feel like shit. I really prefer to spend my downtime with other losers. There's less pressure. There's less forced laughter. Losers rarely, if ever, want to take a hike, or engage in a home-improvement project. And they never look at you with that expression of tranquil pity or sigh or ask you if it might be time maybe to do a little clean-up.

7) Only exercise when you really want to.

The whole idea behind exercise, as I understand it, is to make your life happier, and that isn't being accomplished if you don't like exercise. Are you following my logic here? This doesn't mean that I don't plan to do some physical activity. Shoplifting, for instance, provides a great aerobic workout, as does hunting squirrels with a BB gun. But any of the hard-core stuff, such as running or swimming, is out.

8) Quit worrying about the other person's orgasm.

I'm just one man. I can't be expected to satisfy my partner to, shall we say, completion, every time out. In fact, I'd say the compulsion to do so is kind of a hang-up. So, after years of struggling to maintain my status as a sexual high achiever, I'm going to prioritize my own orgasms this year. Fortunately, I already have a considerable amount of experience when it comes to providing myself sexual pleasure.

9) Fuck moderation.

Given the obvious pressures I'll be facing in the new year, it seems foolish not to take advantage of the freedoms our society grants, specifically when it comes to self-medicating. You only go around once, after all, and it seems foolish not to test certain psychotropic limits. This is especially true given that the positive people in my life consistently urge me to do just the opposite. Bring on the enablers.

10) Limit introspection.

As should be evident from the above resolutions, my capacity for self-knowledge is pretty limited. Rather than getting all Oprah and attempting to figure out why my inner child won't stop crying, I'm heading straight for the TV whenever I feel a bout of introspection coming on. If a Facts of Life marathon can't cure existential woe, I'll simply give up.

In looking over these resolutions, it occurs to me that they might be viewed as a rather grim comment on my overall psychological health. Certain readers may even suggest that this list represents a crass exercise in self-justification, or a pathetic stab at reverse psychology.

This may well be true. But it also calls to mind Resolution 11: disregard the snarky skepticism of hypothetical readers.

Steve Almond's collection of short stories is titled My Life in Heavy Metal (Grove, 2002). He can be reached at sbalmond@earthlink.net.

Issue Date: December 27, 2002 - January 2, 2003