As our top writers reveal their New Year's resolutions, Pat Fitzpatrick takes a look at the crazy promises we make this time of year
Things are getting tricky for all the middle-aged men out there. There was a time when a guy walking to the shop to pick up the papers could be described as 'looking after himself'. Particularly if he only had three pints on the way back. Now, you're a sofa slob if you don't resolve to spend Sunday afternoons cycling to Bordeaux. Still, it's nearly worth it if the new intern at reception says, "looking good, Derek, I almost would, if I didn't have an aversion to grey pubes". Interns. Very cutting people.
A lot of us resolve to learn the language of our favourite holiday destination. So you arrive in Puerto Del Paddy and try out your Spanish on the girl in reception. Unfortunately, she has resolved to improve her English and replies, "I am bery delicious to welcome you for Puerto Del Paddy". You plough on in Spanish, saying that you have a reservation. She slaps your face and says "my boyfriend will be bery avocado about this". Damn you, Google Translate.
A lot of different types of New Year's resolutions are decided well in advance. Giving up the booze isn't one of them. Let's face it, back in December, drink was your best friend in the whole wide world. Just ask the team of huskies who helped you to pull a supermarket trolley of booze all the way back to the car. It's in case anyone calls, says you, not learning from experience. No one calls. The booze is still gone. Look at you, all shaky until the middle of March.
A lot of us try to change our eating habits in January. Particularly since the latest research shows the pitfalls of eating half a tin of Roses for breakfast. (The main one being you can't get off the couch, so you demolish the other half for lunch. You dirty savage). Get ready for a fortnight of brown rice and fruit. And walking into the jacks at work and actually being knocked over by the smell. Detox. Not so good for the people around you.
It's time to quit your job and go out on your own. Who needs a guaranteed pay cheque once a month? Or a fully paid trip to Paris for an anger management course because you threw your laptop out the window? (In fairness, you should hear Imelda eating her crisps at the next desk). The big thing in the States now is places selling ice-cream sandwiches. So you know what to do. Something else. Ice-cream attracts teenagers. OMG, what a 'mare.