Many people wouldn’t classify tennis as a sport you can play, uh, with yourself, in the comfort of your own home, on the carpet. Well, I’m proving those haters wrong every day, albeit unnecessarily. How, you didn’t ask? I’m proud to say one of the best features of my home is the ad-hoc “tennis wall” I’ve started hitting regulation tennis balls against with weirdly devoted regularity. Am I improving my game in the process? I’d certainly like to convince myself so. And you can, too.
According to a recent study I don’t feel like looking up, 92% of New Year’s resolutions fail. So before you make up a vague one about exercising daily-ish or becoming more organized with something you don’t feel like thinking about right now, why not show that incredibly high percentage who’s boss by setting a few far-more-attainable, bottom-rung goals for 2014?
Allow me to get the ball dropping. Here is a nowhere-near-exhaustive list of my goals for 2014 (I’m exhausting!):
- Get upset about dumb things people say, twisting their words over and over in my head until I’m sufficiently offended by them. Repeat over the course of 2-3 days, then forget it ever happened.
There are two types of high-school graduates: Type A) The high-school peaker. Type B) The high-school victim. These two groups share at least one major thing in common: They’re both crazy. Certifiable. Insane in the membrane and out. And there’s something else: In your own way, you’re destined to be an alma-mater member of each. Unless you read the rest of this post, then there might be hope. But no promises.
I recently bought a new home. Probably a bad decision. Now, instead of saying things like, “I really want a Golden Retriever puppy,” in front of people more responsible than me, I have to be all, “I should really put that brushed-nickel toilet paper roll on.” I mean, I never felt like doing anything around anyone else’s house, so why would I feel the sudden urge to have my own house to not do stuff in? I’ll never figure myself out, but before I file for Chapter 18 Bankruptcy (the fake one where the buyer is too lazy to mail their mortgage check), allow me to share with you a few tried-and-true tips for finding your very own money pit.