It’s coming
to the end of January! My bank balance and my conscience are very happy about
this. Who came up with the idea of 6 weeks between pay cheques at the most
expensive time of year? They were either masochistic or loaded. Same goes for
New Year’s Resolutions, after one too many G&Ts you profess ‘life needs to
change’. Then in the cold light of January 1st the hangover kicks
in, a hearty breakfast solves one, but that bargain you made with the Universe,
that one lasts a little longer...
I went approximately
16 days with mine (a new record I might add!). My resolution was to be more
tolerant of people’s foibles. You know those little character traits that grate
on you? Those ticks and habits people have that sit somewhere between nails on
a chalkboard and a punch in the face?
The ones always so petty you are ashamed to admit they irritate you,
irritate is the wrong word, make you want to rage out is more fitting. You get
my point. I figured if I could learn to tolerate these niggling irritations I
would simply be a much happier person.
Day one
(technically the 2nd of January, I figure the 1st doesn’t
count as it was spent in the bleary haze of food and friends) went by without a
hiccup. I smiled at everyone, said thank you to my bus driver and took a deep
breath when a gentleman, although calling this guy a gentleman is a disservice
to the few gentlemen left in this world, cut in front of me queuing for a
coffee. Rather than vocalising my irritation, or imagining him dropping his cup
on the way out of the door, I ordered my coffee with a smile on my face.
Curiously this simple adjustment worked out delightfully; the lovely Baristas
gave my extra stamps on my loyalty card. Rude guy nil, Maddy one.
The
subsequent days passed in somewhat of a slow, downward spiral. I started to
feel like I might be on a rollercoaster, with the inevitable drop just around
the corner. In the metaphor of my life this stomach leaching drop represents
reaching breaking point and shouting at someone. That looming threat heightened
the pressure of perpetual niceness. One week in I started to work with my
headphones in and music up loud to mask keyboard tapping and the perpetual
cough of a colleague. By day 15, I’m fairly sure you could see the beads of
sweat on my forehead as a lady sat next to me on the bus, took over a seat and
a half and tutted when I bumped her just to reach into my pocket. At this point
in our commuter tango I was practically snogging the window in an effort to
compensate for her reincarnation as a space invader. Needless to say the
pressure of my resolution was starting to show. It was on this 15th
day of my resolution – Wednesday January 16 2013 – that I had the annual New
Year awakening. I remembered resolutions are made amidst the hallucinogenic
ambience of New Years Eve; reality is always a little less acute, hidden beneath
flashing lights and clinking glasses. Because of this, resolutions can (and
probably should) be moderated. I can still thank the bus drivers and take a
deep breath before reacting, but I can also kick and scream every now and then
– you know pressure release like a valve on a boiler.
Despite already
falling off the wagon, I do think, for once, I’ve made a resolution that might
stick. Here’s two reasons: one, I know for a fact I have a foible (or two) that
can push other peoples buttons; I am a morning person...even on a Saturday, I’m
up and I need attention (somewhere between a toddler and a Jack Russell). And
two, the anger and irritation is not worth holding onto; it just creates a
vipers nest of hostility and right now I still firmly believe 2013 is going to
be my year. So bring on the perpetual coughs, the people who take up too much
room on the bus and the holes in my favourite shoes on a rainy day; I’m waiting
here with a smile on my face and a small bottle of Gin in my hand.
