New Year Resolutions (with apologies to the Bard) - to make them or not to make them, that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the anguish and deprivations that go with losing weight and giving up smoking or to take a stand against self-righteous innuendoes and dire warnings and by ignoring, end them.
To eat, to sleep; to sleep replete. To sleep, perchance to dream. To dream, aye there's the rub! For in that sleep who knows what dreams may come of bulging buttocks and bouncing breasts, of size 18 dresses, of wheezing lungs and gasping breaths. Who would these fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life?
Yet! What is it in that undiscovered country that puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of. O that this too too solid flesh would melt, thaw, and resolve itself into slenderness. Or that the Everlasting had not cursed me with the need for instant gratification.
The champagne bubbles in its transparency, the glistening potato chips beckon, pale gray tendrils writhe and wander upwards towards the ceiling as the cigarette lolls in the ashtray. The old year prepares to pass the baton to the new, and the clock strikes the first of 12.