It’s a New Year. I am not sure why. Neither I nor Congress had made good use of the last year. But still we have a new one and that’s that.

I am fat and messy. I have a host of bad habits. So this is the perfect time of year for me to buy workout videos, giant plastic tubs, and color-coordinated labels. Being large, sloppy and slothful gives me lots of room for excellent resolutions.

I could exercise every day. More. Differently. With a workout video that has a different skinny chick on the cover. I could de-junk everything in sight and develop an organizational system that will make Martha Stewart weep and then retire. I can work on my productivity. I can make a chart. Charts are an unending source of power. I am pretty sure that we used charts to get to the moon.

I have done the frenzied resolving in years past. But I just can’t be bothered.

Now it’s possibly that my epic laziness has metastasized to the point that it is terminal. But it’s also possible that I have a good reason.

I don’t want to.

It’s true that by most people’s measurement I would be better off if I developed patience and an inside voice. Health is sincerely important. Finding the things I own does have a certain charm (in theory of course). Becoming a Supermom or at least a less convincing version of her nemesis Not Adequate Mother would be a good goal.

But I still just don’t want to.

I am tired of nitpicking me. I am tired of the lists I have of things I need to do to get my act together. I am tired of growth opportunities. I am tired of me. I just want to be happy.

All this resolving is still really just navel-gazing. It is the old song “Me” in the key of “I.” I have gazed at my navel all that I can stand. There has to be something more interesting to do. I can still try to do things a little better. But I can do that without focusing something as precious as the beginning of a New Year on me and my failings — or even my wishes.

I think I will like this New Year. I will talk to my sister (in-law technically) on the phone three times a day even if I am going to see her that night. I will write things I love. I will write things that disappoint me. I will definitely write things that annoy you. I will read new things and try new things.

I will remember forgotten old things.  I will be happy to be here. I will terrorize innocent bystanders and herd cattle and ballerinas. It will be fun. Mostly.

But what I hope it mostly is, is less me.

C.S. Lewis said, “True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.” I think he’s right.  And I think this is a great time to start.