It’s officially 2026.

What happened to last year?

This coming year is going to be better.

Those are the top cliches in my vocabulary arsenal I use every single New Year’s Eve.

Looking back, there’s so many promises I make to myself and so many promises I break.

I’ve made long lists that concentrate on personal health. Usually I make that list while munching on Cheetos but getting healthier will start right after that bag is empty.

I’ve had years when exercise is my big promise. On Jan. 1, I put on my socks, lace up my tennis shoes, and I’m standing at the door with my keys.

If it’s too cold, I shut the door and go back inside. If it’s too hot, I tell myself to wait a few days – it’ll cool off. As you can probably guess, it’s always either too cold or too hot.

The pros advise throwing away clothes that haven’t been worn in a year. Those of us who struggle with our weight know we have three sets of clothes in our closets.

There’s the “one-day” clothes, the ones we will lose weight and get back into. They represent hope.

Then there’s the clothes we can wear right now. They represent reality.

Then there’s the last section of elastic-waist pants and T-shirts that come down to our mid thighs.

They represent regret.

Then there’s the years I promise myself to declutter. That list is so long, it’s overwhelming. Instead, I made a short list of reasonable projects last  year.

I cleaned out the junk drawer but only threw away dry-rotted rubber bands and string. The rest stayed. One never knows when a dozen twist ties and an oddball bolt will come in handy.

Cleaning things is always on my resolution list. I washed and dusted the blinds in the kitchen and living room this year. As I did so, I realized the last time I’d undertaken that task was during Covid.

No wonder the dust was so thick.

So instead of making resolutions of what to do, I’m making a list of things I’m not going to do even though professionals would recoil in horror.

Clean the top of the refrigerator. I’m 5’2”. If I can’t see it, the dust isn’t there.

Organize the kitchen utensil drawer. Rummaging round in there for my favorite spatula is part of the cooking process.

Throw away old towels. I like that thinner towels don’t clog up up the lint trap in the dryer.

Moisturize our couch. I don’t even moisturize my face, so why would I bother with a couch that’s 15 years old.

Make my home look like something in a magazine spread. There’s no personality in a house with no family photos or knick-knacks on the shelves.

I still have fake greenery on the top of the kitchen cabinets and on the living room shelves because I like having plants in the house that do not require any maintenance.

I also have hand-crocheted doilies on shelves. They were made by my grandmother, and they’re at least 60 years old. No way they’re sitting in a drawer or getting thrown away.

Clean off the front of our refrigerator. I smile every time I look at the fridge and see drawings and notes from our grandchildren there.

One poem is from our eldest granddaughter when she was in the first grade, and she’s graduating from high school this year. When they’re so faded I can’t read them, they’ll come off.

Maybe.

Here’s hoping your 2026 resolution list is short, fun and promises to make your life easier and happier.

After all, isn’t being happy the best resolution of all?

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.