Throughout my passage, I’ve perpetuated my share of practical jokes. I won’t enumerate them here, the simple reason being, I may want to bring one from retirement.
I have to say that many practical jokes are neither sensible nor humorous. With the high price of medicine nowadays, I will have a merry heart every moment. Just call me Dr. Merry Heart, and I’ll distribute some fantastic medicine to everyone who needs it.
Now, the practical joke I’m thinking of has to do with New Year’s Resolutions. For the first several months of January, I’m nervous and sweating over those bad New Year’s Resolutions I’m forced to make.
Somewhere there’s someone laughing at all those dumb enough to make New Year’s Resolutions. It’s probably the quintessential practical joke played on all humankind. Is there a civilization anywhere on the planet today that doesn’t fall with this practical joke? If there is, I would like to move there.
The first week in January is most likely the worst week in regards to these New Year’s Resolutions. They’re fresh in our mind and of course new on our lips. A New Year’s Resolution wouldn’t be so bad if nobody knew that we left one. The issue comes when someone knows what our settlement is and always reminds us,”What is your New Year’s Resolutions coming along?”
For the majority of us, it’s a formula for lying. Needless to say, I attribute my friends that are enticing me in this pattern of lying.
But during the first week, I amuse high goals about my resolutions. And like the thought-challenged beggar that I am, I boast to everyone about the high quality settlements I have placed in force for the next year. All this in an attempt to increase my position among my peers. The majority of my peers are standing in water . My purpose is to make them believe I am a progressive, forward thinking, highbrow individual of the future. I can’t control what they believe, but I can help them along the thinking process concerning myself.
It’s during this week that I begin to have suspicions about the validity of my resolutions. The first week they seem wonderful, but the next week that the rose begins evaporating and I start to find out what I have strapped myself with for the next year. Then, just when my confidence is starting to shake, a friend of mine will ask,”What is your New Year’s Resolutions coming along?”
On Facebook, they have a procedure known as”defriending.” I must learn how that works. I have a list of friends I want to”defriend,” at least before my New Year’s Resolutions have faded into the distant past of forgetfulness.
Then the next week of January comes around. It’s at this time I start to find that my New Year’s Resolutions were made by a fool. There’s absolutely not any fool like the one on your bathroom mirror. By now, I find there is simply no way those resolutions will be held by me. If I could sell my settlements on eBay, I might make out pretty good, because on paper they look terrific.
She always says it with a ridiculous little smirk on her face. After all, she’s 46 decades, this coming summer, of experience with my New Year’s Resolutions.
It’s the fourth week of January I’m most interested in. To proceed through the first 3 weeks of January is quite painful but at the time the previous week comes around what’s forgotten.
Not only have I forgotten my resolutions, but everyone around me has forgotten them too. At least they’ve given up asking me about these resolutions. I take what I get and am grateful. Some might have heard about my defriending policy.
The thing most upsetting is, I never learn my lesson. Next year it’ll be the exact same thing, and as a result, the identical outcome.
There’s something to denying the past. I believe it is interesting the things we will need to forget are the very things we remember, and what we need to remember are the ones we usually forget.
The apostle Paul knew this very thing.
And that’s no practical joke.