Monday, 6 January 2014

Those Damn New Years Resolutions

Research has shown that most people who make New Year’s Resolutions rarely keep them beyond the month of May.  I fervently endeavor to better myself each year so was quite miffed when I read this, and last year made up my mind to see my resolutions through to December.  These included:

1.      Being less sarcastic
2.       Being nicer to people with bad personal hygiene (maybe they don’t have access to soap and water.  The fact that there are deos for every budget is neither here nor there)
3.       Accepting that Monday will come around, no matter how much I bitch and moan about it
4.       Sticking to my principles of punctuality and politeness, even though almost every other person I meet on the daily is determined to flout such conventions.

Anyway, as I was drawing up my list of resolutions for 2014 and berating myself for not sticking to the previous one, it dawned on me that my failure to fulfill the list above was not entirely my fault.  Looking back, one particular incident comes to mind.

I am very guarded about my phone number, but some time last year, a young man managed to get his sticky fingers on it.  He called me persistently, demanding a meeting to discuss a ‘great’ idea he had for a show on Xfm which would blow my mind and that of my listeners.  I tried to get more information from him over the phone, because, in my experience, such ‘great’ ideas are usually awful and a waste of time, but he didn’t want to know.  Reluctantly, I told him to come to the office the following Monday at 11am sharp, when I knew I would be done with my show and one-more-coffee away from my usually murderous post-weekend mood.

He turned up late.  I had already moved on to the other things I had to do that day and promptly forgotten about him.  Anyway, he waltzed over to my desk, and said ‘’Oh, Siima.  You’re here!’’ I looked up at him and said, not un-sarcastically, ‘Actually no, I’m not.  I’m just a figment of your imagination.’’ He didn’t get it.

He pulled up a chair, and that is when it hit me.  Either this guy was not acquainted with toothpaste, or something had died in his mouth some months ago and not been retrieved and buried yet.  He placed a tattered business card on my desk and I was shocked to see that he was an employee of a reputable advertising agency.  Don’t ask me which one. He then proceeded to bore me senseless with his show proposal, which, if I had accepted it, would have probably gotten me fired.  I finally managed to distract him by faking a phone call and excusing myself, telling him I’d think about it and give him a call.  I went to the studio and hid there for about 20 minutes until I was sure he had gone.

In 5 minutes, this guy had shot down all my resolutions.  I had been sarcastic, somewhat unpleasant to a smelly person, cursed Monday even more than usual, and had my to do list delayed by a whole 45 minutes.


All I’m saying is, don’t beat yourself up if you fail to keep your resolutions.  It’s probably someone else’s fault anyway.

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