Ah, journalists. They’re just like you.
They make New Year’s resolutions and feel the need to tell people about them.
I, a journalist, have compiled a sample of my resolutions for 2020, mainly because I feel like if I write them down, I am speaking them into existence and I can be held accountable.
Come on, people. Hold me accountable. I’m begging you.
So, without further ado (or adon’t), here is a condensed list of some of my 2020 resolutions.
Limit Eye Rolling: I have an irrational fear that my eyes are going to get stuck like that. Has that stopped them from rolling almost non-stop for the last 23 years? Uh, no. But with the emergence of all of the 2020 vision and eye jokes, if there was ever a year for my eyes to finally get stuck in the back of my head, I feel like it would be 2020. Am I wrong?
Buy More Rugs So The Dirt On My Floor Isn’t Visible: You may be asking yourself, “Why doesn’t Emma just sweep up her floor? It’s not that hard. Just get your broom out and stop being lazy, you slob.” My response to this would be 5 simple words: “Sweep is for the weak.” I do several things to ensure a quality living space for myself. Some friends gave me a BugZooka so I can handle the stinkbugs, I have nice lighting, I’ve befriended the mice, my apartment smells nice, etc. But I draw the line at sweeping.
Drink More Water: This is going to be a very hydrated year for yours truly. Sure, I’m placing a lot of pressure on my water intake, hoping that it will bring me clear skin, better sleep, shiny hair, a boyfriend, emotional growth and world peace, but I have faith that it will get me there.
Stop Throwing My Clothes on the Trunk in My Bedroom: Just put them away, Emma. It will be better for my sanity and my sense of zen to have a bedroom without a pile of clothes staring me down every time I walk into my room, and it will make trying to find a pair of pants for work when I’m already running a couple minutes late a heckuva lot easier.
Get Out on the Town: And by town, I mean anywhere but my apartment. Not that I don’t love my apartment. I just feel like in order to assimilate myself fully into the culture and society of Hampshire County I need to, let’s see, get out into the society of Hampshire County. Spend my time in haunts a little more stimulating than the grocery store, the gas station or my living room. If that means taking up hiking (gulp), I’m there. If it means doing stuff on weekends where I might have a sliver of a chance of meeting people my own age, I’m going to do it if I can.
Now hold me to it all.