My worst New Year’s Eve resolution

Don’t set the New Years Eve resolution bar too high, like Fran Whiting did. Small and achievable is the key.

Right. Well, here we all are, a brand, spanking New Year, and all together again as Australia’s borders reopen.

At least that’s what I think is happening; by necessity this column has to be written a little in advance, and frankly anything could have happened by the time it’s published.

If the past few months are anything to go by, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse could have shown up by now and none of us would bat an eyelid. “Oh, hello, Pestilence, did you happen to bring a mask with you at all on your way from the mouth of hell?”

Yes, I think it’s safe to say that after 2020, which pretty much set the bar at an all time low in terms of New Year’s hopes being dashed, we’re all a bit gun shy about throwing wild celebrations now, aren’t we?

Not to mention throwing around rash declarations of lofty resolutions.

No rash declarations of lofty resolutions.

Personally, I’m setting my own bar very low for 2022 in order to avoid disappointment.

I may also be setting it very low in order to avoid a repeat of the ignominy of New Year’s Eve 2019 in which I declared publicly in a column that it was going to be: “The best year ever!”

Honestly, the only way it could have been more embarrassing is if I had spelt “ever”, “eva”. In any case, 2020 was not “the best year ever” nor even eva; it was however, the longest one, lasting, as far as I can remember, for approximately 12 months and 348 years.

The same can be said for 2021, another extremely tedious year in which we had to look at endless pictures of people’s sourdough bread starters on social media.

So, my New Year’s resolutions this year are watered down versions of the usual vows to travel/learn a new language/hobby.

Or to give up some sort of vice, which could prove particularly tricky, given so many of us took up brand new ones during the pandemic.

I’m also setting my bar very low for New Year’s Eve and plan to be done and dusted and in bed by 9pm. That’s got nothing to do with the pandemic, however, that’s me every New Year’s Eve.

Don’t aim too high with the resolutions.

Where I could once be counted on to put my hands in the air like I just don’t care, these days I am not much of a party animal – unless that animal is some sort of small marsupial who likes burrowing in corners and hiding from people.

Is it an age thing? Not sure, but I do know I am not alone in this.

My favourite New Year’s Eve party memory is from just a couple of years ago. It was a smallish party and we all did the obligatory countdown to midnight, then, just after we shouted “Happy New Year!”, there were a few seconds of silence, just long enough to hear a woman called Helen say loudly to her husband Richard: “Thank God, now let’s go home.” I liked Helen and Richard, they were my kind of people.

Anyway, whatever you do this New Year’s Eve, I hope you get to spend it with someone you love and who loves you right back.

And happy(ish) 2022 – we don’t want to get too far ahead of ourselves now do we? Although, to be honest, the optimistic part of me is still hoping it could be our best year eva!

Originally published as My worst New Year’s Eve resolution