New Year's Revolution

It's not exactly like making a secret wish and blowing out the birthday candles, but I've usually been hesitant to share my New Year's resolutions because experience tells me that I probably won't keep them.  

I don't like goals--or at least the discussion about goals.  Anytime someone starts going on about the importance of setting goals I feel like I'm being forced to watch an infomercial or listen to a pitch for a timeshare at Shady Meadows Family Resort and Oil Change.

For a few years I've tried to be cheeky about the whole thing.  "My New Year's resolution is to keep my New Year's resolution."  I know it's not particularly humorous, but that will teach people to ask.

This year, though, I've tried something different.  I decided to set a goal and actually try to stick to it.  I'm proud to say--now that we are more than a quarter of the way through the year--that I have managed to stick by my resolution with near perfect accuracy.

(Drum roll please.)

I have resolved to use the revolving door at work.

(And now the cymbal.)

I know it's about as noteworthy as something you'd expect a TV celebrity to tout during a public service announcement, but it's something and it has consequence.  First, I no longer feel guilty for ignoring the signs that say "please use the revolving door" as I follow the masses through the normal doors on either side of the revolving door.  Second, I can now assume a smug look on my face when the facilities groups sends out an email about the costly heating/cooling bill that comes from the perpetually open doors of a pressurized building.  Third, I no longer have to come up with convoluted rationalizations for my behavior like how I'm actually reducing the per capita energy loss per door by following someone else out.

Now, I can happily saunter into my office any old time with a mild swivel and spring in my step knowing that I'm better than everyone else.  I can even make a complete revolution or two or three if I feel like it and not worry about looking silly.  None of those other earth-killing, crowd-following, door-swinging lemmings has the courage to look me in the eye.  They can just keep on stepping and hope the door doesn't hit them on the way out.