1. I will not start exercising more.
I’ve put in my time at the gym, struggling and sweating through a spin class, on the treadmill, lifting weights, all witnessed by fit pretty girls and men flexing muscles that I didn’t even know existed. I’ve tried the at-home DVDs with titles like Successful Steps To Achieving A Six-Pack in Six Minutes. Now those DVDs are dust collectors, pieces of furniture. I’ve read Born To Run and tried to adopt barefoot running. Wearing the goofy-toed shoes through the city only draws laughter from unruly teenagers and concerned mothers corralling their children from the mad man in the rubber feet. I’m going to trade in that ab-blasting time for some quality feet-up-on-the-ottoman, eating-pizza-flavored-Doritos time.

2. I will not start eating healthy.
My grandfather survived The Great Depression, polio, and World War II, living into his 80s. If he knew that I started choosing kale salads over cheeseburgers or even slightly considered doing a juice cleanse, he’d haunt the shit out of me. And I would deserve it.

3. I will not stop drinking 8-16 drinks a week.
Drinking is fun. It makes any gathering fun and it especially makes me a lot more fun to be around.

4. I will not reconnect with old friends whom I’ve fallen out of touch with.
Between Twitter, Facebook, and email, if we’re still not talking on a regular basis by now, there’s no reason to push it. That ship has sailed. Cherish the memories; don’t try to fabricate new ones.

5. I will not call my parents more than once a week.
So that they have more chances to tell me about what the weather is like in the city that I used live in? Or so that they can give me more real-time updates on who just died and who is about to die? Or so that they can fill me in on all the wonderful things happening with my annoying cousin who is more successful than me? One call a week is pushing it as is.

6. I will not volunteer or give money to charity.
Sure, it’s for a good cause, but I’d rather spend my precious free time watching sports and spending my hard-earned money on sports-related clothing so that strangers will know exactly which sports teams I root for.

7. I will not be a better husband.
Look, my wife knew what she was getting into when she married me. If I suddenly morph into Mr. Amazing, that adds a lot of pressure to maintain a consistent high level of greatness. There’s no way I’ll be able to sustain that. It’ll eventually backfire and I’ll just look worse in the long run. I’ll try to throw my dirty socks in the hamper instead of leaving them like land mines around the house. That’s all I can kinda try to do at this time.

8. I will not start a new hobby.
I’ve got about 36 hobbies that have been gathering dust around the house—beermaking kit, harmonica lessons book, and a still plastic-wrapped book of Sudoku puzzles. Let’s pump the brakes this year on my attempts to be a well-rounded Renaissance Man.

9. I will not be a more positive, live-in-the-moment person.
I’m not a goldfish. I don’t have an eight-second attention span. I’m a human. And no human just lives in the moment. Everything we do is in preparation for the next moment. And adding in positivity on top of that impossible “be here now” challenge? Have you not read the above? This is why I hate resolutions, they ask a lot.

10. I will not stop worrying about money.
I’m not some Buddhist hippie on a commune who uses an actual washboard to wash his clothing with. I’m a bacon-loving, shallow, competitive American with high cholesterol who savors his indoor plumbing and 46-inch TV.

11. I will not “unplug” from electronic devices and read more.
Thanks to the Internet, humans have never read so much. Sure, it’s mostly Twitter feeds, Facebook posts, and Buzzfeed top 10 lists about top 10 lists, but the Web is an infinite book! With pictures! So suck it, Hemingway.

12. I will not get out of the city and explore nature.
Hiking, fishing, and cooking my dinner over a fire then sleeping on the ground? Like some homeless fantasy camp? Pass.

13. I will no longer make New Year’s resolutions.
Let’s face it; I’m not going to keep any promises that I make to myself. If by chance, I do happen to overachieve beyond my means, it will be a pleasantly surprising victory for me. Not something I check off of a New Year’s resolutions list. The less I focus on a checklist intent on making me a better me, the more time I’ll have to continue down my comfortable path of being a lazy, selfish, consistently worrying, alcohol-loving, mediocre friend, son, and husband.

Happy New Year’s to me!