Well Hello 2009. How Funny To See You Here.

For those of you who missed it, the calendar year of 2009 has come upon us. No, don't get up. He's an informal sort of fellow. In fact, he'll just hang around in the background while you go about your business. No - really. Keep doing what you're doing. He doesn't mind.

Yes, I'm sure.

In honor of 2009's arrival, I decided to humor him and his "resolution" fetish. He's waited a long time for this, after all. Over 2000 years. Because I have been a bit indecisive as late (thanks to his younger brother 2008 and his chaotic influence) I proposed that we use a bit of time - mutual time - to really make certain that I pick the resolutions that "work for both of us." (His words.)

I will, therefore, be using the month of January to "try out" some different resolutions and find "the right fit." There have been no decisions made as to the number of resolutions that are to come out of this experiment, but there is tacit agreement that the more difficult that they are to adhere to, the fewer I shall adopt.

I admit, I did try to use that unspoken agreement to sort of...well....cheat.

"I will," I stated, dramatically, "resolve to WILL myself into a man."

2009 was silent. I could feel the disapproval. He - apparently - doesn't take these resolutions as lightly as I do.

"I'm serious!" I insisted. "I've been reading lately about a number of species of animals....or at least fish... that spontaneously switch genders. I shall will myself to do that as well! This will - of course - be EXTRAORDINARILY difficult, so perhaps it should be my ONLY resolution."

I refrained from mentioning that at the slightest sign that such an experiment was having any effect I would be forced to cease all efforts immediately. I mean - really - who would want to be a man?

In disgust, 2009 threatened to leave.

"Fine." I conceded. "We'll pick something LESS INTERESTING." I sighed melodramatically, and affected an air of disdain that was meant to suggest that 2009 was LESS than "with the times." He - naturally - didn't even pause to consider such an absurd notion. (It was, admittedly, a lame affectation...what with him BEING "the times" and all.... but I was still smarting from the rejection of my proposed resolution.)

Since our conversation, we've resumed a semi-affable relationship and have been tossing ideas about all day. Most of mine have been shot down immediately. It appears that the resolution to not scratch itchy skin is not a lofty enough goal, and that the resolution to enjoy peanut butter is not an option - just because I ALREADY DO!

"Who," I asked, peeved, "Is making up these little rules?"

Still in the running: The resolution to write - a little something - every day; the resolution to try a new form of exercise every month; the resolution to tackle (unnamed - at my insistence) a long-ignored project.

"I can't help but notice," I sniffed, as we reviewed the potential candidates, "that - so far - all of my potential resolutions involve ME exerting effort, and YOU doing nothing but sitting back and watching."

2009 smiled, saying nothing. He didn't need to. He knows that I don't have - metaphorically - a leg to stand on. His role is not nothing. In the accomplishment of these resolutions, as in the selection of them, we will need to work as a team. At the moments of failure, it will be his role to offer me another chance, to pick me up and carry me forward to the next opportunity.

Still, I don't care for the smug look on his face.

Fortunately for me, nothing has been set yet. When it comes to the selection of my year's resolutions, time is on my side.