It’s that time of year again! The time where we all pretend to start afresh with a clean slate, our hopes as high as the level of intoxication we’re still at after a wild New Year’s Eve. JUST KIDDING. My evening consisted of my yearly scheduled existential crisis and crying while watching Brooklyn 99 because of how overtired I am. YAY FOR THE NEW YEAR!
But everyone knows that the start of a new year is the time to make goals and resolutions, because goals you make at any other time of the year don’t count, right? There’s no motivation quite like seeing the date clock over to 1/1/18 when the clock strikes 12 and knowing you have 12 long months to achieve your dreams. Even though time is a manmade concept and the idea of a calendar year is a commercial concept designed to place restrictions upon your life and your worth. WOW, 2018 ME IS A CYNICAL ONE. Watch out, internet.
While everyone is making Goodreads goals, thinking about what they want to achieve this year, and how they can make changes to their life (like eating healthier or exercising more, where they then revert to their original habits six days later… Past Me, I’m looking at you…), I thought I should crush your dreams and tell you all the reasons why your bookish goals are unreasonable!
Just kidding! Sort of.