Leftridge: Here’s How My New Year’s Resolution Went

Four out of every seven Americans will make a New Year’s Resolution; three of those four will fail within the first three weeks. The remaining one individual will keep that resolution for at least one month, but half of that one person will then also do it longer. (I just made all of this up, but it’s convoluted enough to sound real, so feel free to use it in casual conversation.)

Anyway, we all make resolutions. Some of us want to save more money or stop smoking; others want to watch more pornography or swear less. The most popular resolution by far is to lose unwanted fat. Although I’m typically not one for such frivolity, I decided to give this last one a shot.

See, like 89% of all Americans, I am morbidly obese and one pepperoni-milkshake away from a massive coronary. I keep an emergency cheeseburger on the nightstand in case I wake up in the middle of the night and need beef; I cut up pieces of hot dog and blend them into mayonnaise, and then I dip pizza crust in the mayonnaise. (I’d seriously rather not even tell you what I do with French fries.)

So I vowed to lose some weight. Not a lot, mind you (I mean, we can’t ALL be as hunky and ripped as John Candy, RIP), but enough so that I don’t have to wear a bra anymore and sitting up too fast doesn’t cause sharp, stabbing pains to ripple through my chest.

Here’s how it’s gone so far:

Thursday, January 1^st.

I wake up when my alarm goes off at 4am, but what in the hell was I even thinking—I am HUNGOVER friends. Back to bed, no gym today. I also laugh at the kale in the fridge when I DO wake up at noon, because kale does nothing for hangovers. I eat six slices of reheated pizza topped with American cheese and hot sauce and watch Twilight Zone reruns all day. Tomorrow will be better.

Friday, January 2^nd.

See, the thing is, I’m still off work. And it’s stupid to start something this monumental when I need to be enjoying my time off, right? So I sleep late again, then eat a FAMILY VALUE SIZE! box of frozen shrimp that I cook in the microwave and look at internet porn until I fall asleep in the computer chair at midnight.

Saturday January 3^rd.

Sunday, January 4^th.

Same thing with Friday. AND there’s football on, which means I’m going to mainline Rotel cheese dip and snort ranch dressing until I can’t feel my feet. I’m drinking lots of water, though!!! (And Old Milwaukee’s Best.)

Monday, January 5^th

If I started trying on a Monday, you KNOW I’d fail. That’s ridiculous. Mondays suck already—it’s a recipe for disaster if I try and change things on a MONDAY, for fucks sake. I’m sensible, though, and I only have two Hot Pockets for lunch at work, three cans of Mountain Dew: Code Red, and I don’t get a McDouble to eat on the way home when I swing by McDonald’s after work. (PLUS I got the Crispy Chicken Deluxe which, even though it’s got bacon and chipotle-mayo and Cheddar-Jack cheese, ISN’T a burger. Chicken is better than beef, duh.)

Tuesday, January 6^th

HELL. YES. Up at 4am with the alarm. Have some oatmeal and a fistful of raisins and I am at the gym by 5. Holy shit is it packed. Haha. Lots of people doing their resolution too, I guess. I stand by the Stairclimber for like, 15 minutes, but nobody is getting off of one. (Lots of hot lady butts though, so I’m not complaining.) I saunter over to the rowing-machines and hop on. The dude before me didn’t clean his sweat off, so my ass is soaked with someone else’s perspiration before I even start. I feel like puking. After about 10 minutes of rowing, I start getting a little light headed. Rather than keel over like a jerk, I wisely opt to call it a day. Baby steps, you know?

Wednesday, January 7^th

I woke up in the middle of the night because it felt like someone was shooting me in the back with a bow and arrow. I could barely move. Called in sick, watched Judge Mathis and then went back to bed. Woke up at noon almost crippled. Got into it with the Domino’s order taker because their prissy fucking delivery driver wouldn’t bring my Philly Cheese Steak pizza directly into my bedroom. Fuck Domino’s, there’s a million places to get pizza in this city.

Thursday, January 8th

Still hard to move. I don’t feel like, crippled anymore, but I still feel waaaaaayyyyyy less than 100%. Call into work again. Obviously, no gym.

Friday, January 9^th

My buddy Climp is in town from Delaware, and you KNOW what that means— that’s right, I’m making my sausage chili and he’s coming over to drink PBR tallboys until 3am. My body is still tender, but not as tender as the four kinds of sausage that go in this goddamned chili.

Saturday, January 10^th

Okay, last night was a terrible idea. I woke up at 6am—after three hours of sleep or so—with liquid firehosing out of both ends. This is going to be the kind of day that only biscuits and gravy can cure. And then later, some lasagna. The smell of the kale rotting in my fridge is making shit even worse. When I turn my head too fast, everything goes dark for a minute.

Tuesday, January 13^th

Well, what happened was this: after I didn’t show up for work on Monday, my boss sent his admin Lucinda over to check on me. She could see through a crack in my blinds where I was on the couch, but I wouldn’t stir no matter how hard she beat on the door, even with her shoe. She called emergency services and they sent paramedics out. The medics got a key from my landlord and they came in and got me. Apparently I had a “cardiac episode” of “moderately high severity,” and slipped into a coma. I’m eating intravenously right now and watching Coach reruns. The television volume doesn’t go above a whisper, though, and the closed captioning is messed up. FML.

Wednesday, January 14^th

The cardiologist visited and told me that I won’t have any lasting issues from this episode as long as I start making changes immediately. He’s prescribed several medications and given me pamphlets about proper nutrition and exercise. He also gave me contact info for a support group. My landlord left me a voicemail telling me that I’m not getting back my security deposit because of the sausage-chili spray from my body that got all over the carpet.

Thursday, January 15^th

Because of the lack of solids, I’m down eight pounds from the beginning of the year!! Why does everyone think New Year’s Resolutions are so hard?