December, n.: The 12th and final month of the year in the Julian and Gregorian calendars; the season to be jolly. Alternatively, it’s 31 more chances to cross something off of the 2013 bucket list, 2,678,400 more seconds to dust off the ol’ list of resolutions, and one last hurrah before the new year.
Speaking of resolutions, if you happened to have the pleasure of attending Princeton High School last year (and the ultimate pleasure of reading my initial Op-Ed on New Year’s Resolutions in February), you may remember some of my resolutions for this year. I’m not offended if you don’t; I actually do not remember my own New Year’s resolutions.
Thankfully, Google Drive has a better memory than I do. Apparently, I wanted to “find what interests me and pursue it relentlessly; to banish flightiness and welcome focus; to find enjoyment in the things I do; and ultimately, to be able to kick back sometime in the unforeseeable future and bask in fulfillment.” Note to self: for 2014, stop the abuse of semicolons.
But with winter break on our heels, my understanding of “interests,” “focus,” and “fulfillment” is still as vague, unfocused, and unfulfilled as it was 11 months ago, when I typed in those particular words from the thesaurus that made me sound ambitious and humble, while racing the deadline. Clearly, I failed on many fronts. In my defense, it is quite difficult to accomplish goals that are little more than filler words.
And therefore, all things considered, my actions cannot be at fault for not falling under the holey umbrella of my resolutions, but rather, my intentions. Ignoring any damning implications of avoiding responsibility during 2013, I have come to the conclusion that Belinda circa January 2013, henceforth to be referred to as Belinda, is to blame for creating unrealistic and unattainable goals.
Secondly, I take issue with the fact that Belinda decided to leave everything to the future. Here, I would like to insert a short disclaimer stating that I actually do not speak in the third person; this is just a throwback to my younger and more vulnerable years. Blame the nostalgia. In any case, I know I expressly decided to leave things to the future because I distinctly recall the thought “it’s okay, I’ll bring my GPA up during 12th grade” crossing my mind, running headlong into “I also think that it would be smart to not take a free period.” Understandably, goals do entail the endgames of ambition, but that should not be at the cost of reality. Reality is to be lived, not predicted. I know this because I predicted going to sleep at 11 p.m. every night, A’s in Powerschool, and mental stability in balance, but I lived 3 a.m. sadness that could only be cured by ice cream and denial.
Nonetheless, with my goals and dreams fading as surely as the length of day (just kidding but not really), I am still happy. Quite honestly, I’ve realized that I am not overly concerned about what happens 5 months from now; as long as every today is lived in full, things should fall into place. (#noregrets)
Perhaps we should be pursuing what has been with us all this time: the present.