It’s the end of January, and by now, most people’s New Year’s Resolutions are long gone. Fortunately for the world, at large, I–convinced of my own perfection–determined not to make any this year.
At any rate, I was motivated by a bout of self reflection, tonight, and came up with the second half of my two-part series: “I Resolve Not to Resolve.” I realize I was supposed to complete this something like 25 days ago, but, I can’t be constrained by arbitrary deadlines.
So here you have it:
I Resolve not to Resolve, Pt. II: Shit I Wasn’t Above Doing in 2009, and As Such, Shall Continue Doing in 2010…
1. Taking a pad and pen to a meeting with a senior partner where he thinks I’m taking elaborate notes, when really I’m just writing down every ridiculous thing he says so that I can transcribe them to narrative form and tell all of my friends on facebook.
2. Responding to any excessive and unsolicited stories you tell me about your children with stories about my dogs.
3. Ignoring your calls, emails, and generally not talking to you for two months, then hitting you up at 9:30 pm on a Tuesday night with a “So, what are you doing?” text, cause shit’s getting a little tight.
4. Stealing my neighbor’s NY Times. Seriously. We’re on a 24 hour news cycle. What the hell kind of douchebag gets anything other than the weekend edition in 2010? It’s not theft if I’m saving him from his own innate pretentiousness.
5. Dropping the c-bomb. It’s abrasive, I know, but so necessary sometimes. And it only backfired that one time in ’09 when I inadvertently called my client one on her voicemail. Calling her the c-bomb wasn’t inadvertent, of course. Allowing Verizon to record me calling her the c-bomb was.
6. Assuming that I’m better than any woman who:
-wears white leather boots
-chunky square heels.
Honestly, if you don’t think you’re better than a white boot or a chunky heel, how can you expect me to?
7. Sending any unsolicited nudy pictures that you send me to all of my friends. Emphasis here on the word “unsolicited.”
8. Hitting you up two months after receipt of said pictures at 9:30 pm on a Tuesday with a “So, what are you doing?” text.
9. Hanging up the phone on my clients. Not all of them, mind you. Just the ones who insist on speaking with me directly.
10. Fantasizing about my new psychoanalyst while he’s talking about steps I can take to be more focused in my life outlook. At least that’s what i think he was talking about. That’s what I’m paying him to talk about. Really I could only concentrate on his sexy lips moving. Which, by the way, I count as progress. Cause I was focusing on them.
11. Premising a sentence with “forgive me” so that I can say some really disrespectful shit in the next breath.
12. Pretending to take down all of a client’s background information, but really g-chatting with my friends; then, making my assistant call said client two hours later to do a “followup interview.” It’s not unethical if I’m not billing for it.
13. Making my assistant feel really bad when she complains about how annoyed my client was at having to do a “followup interview” by telling her about how hard it is to be a lawyer and how busy I am.
14. Laughing out loud in inappropriate situations when something is legitimately funny, including, but not limited to:
-moments of silence (I can think of nothing more worthless than a moment of silence)
-church (last week, my friend, “Michael” said this woman in this horrible fur coat looked like Huggy Bear)
15. Walking out—often in inappropriate situations—when I’m tired, but mainly bored, including, but not limited to:
-moments of silence (seriously, if some harm should befall me, you have my permission to keep fucking talking)
-church (And she did. She really did look like Huggy Bear.)
16. Saying under my breath, at any given time, but most especially during conference calls with opposing counsel:
-“that’s what she said”
then, inexplicably snickering.
17. Telling my pregnant friend about how huge her ass is getting—then convincing her that her pregnancy hormones are making her hypersensitive when she starts to tell me how mean I am for talking about how huge her ass is getting. In reality, it’s not even that big. I just like to fuck with her.
18. Illegally parking and then letting the 3-fingered meter man stroke the inside of my palm while speculating why a sweet girl like myself isn’t married, to avoid getting a ticket for illegally parking.
I’m feeling better about 2010 already.