I had only planned to make one new years resolution this year. The new years resolutions naysayers had finally gotten through to me and I felt silly thinking about resolutions when everyone says they are useless anyway. So I just picked a "theme" for the year and planned to center all my self-improvement efforts on my theme.
Then came January 2. The bustle, warmth, fun, boredom, and Kodak moments of the holidays come to a brutal end and, despite thinking I was ready for a healthy dose of reality, all I can see in front of me is months of bitter cold and sunless days, more of same from last year, and almost six months until my next vacation day.
That's not exactly the bright future I envisioned for 2013 from the other side of January 2.
So I made some resolutions, knowing full well that I will have forgotten about some of them by the end of February. But right now, that doesn't matter so much. The goals I make at the beginning of every year do more than help me improve various aspects of my life. They light up the dank months of January and February by reminding me of all the wonderful things I will accomplish that year, and give me hope that this year could be the best year of my life.
On January 2, I didn't have any grand plans for 2013. Now, however, I suspect that 2013 will be my year.