Here, conveniently categorized for ease of use and in response to growing demand for full disclosure about my future agenda, are my top resolutions for 2013.
Stop wondering where all my time goes. Just hire a private detective to shadow it, track it down and bring it to justice.
Practice my elevator speech, the better to get my career highlights down to a few sound bites. But do so in actual elevators around town.
Write a surefire self-help best-seller. Start with "Stupidity for Dummies," then graduate to the more ambitious "Self-Esteem for Losers."
Get my heart in the right place once and for all. Schedule an appointment with a cardiac surgeon who's willing to take a stab at relocating it.
Develop enough dexterity to sit in my own lap. Then see if I can discover a practical purpose for this ability.
Learn to stand in my own shadow on a really sunny, sweltering day. Will come in handy if I need shade.
Be more spontaneous in living my life, whether in word or deed. But rehearse everything first.
Develop a hint of what might pass in some circles for charisma.
Stop being so desperate for attention. Blind-copying myself on my own e-mails just to keep myself in the loop is probably overkill.
Seek a second opinion, even if turns out to be my own. It might still be a lot better than the first, even if that one was mine, too.
Expand my comfort zone beyond its current dimension of two square feet, roughly one-sixth the national average. Feel free to step outside it once in awhile and, weather permitting, even stroll around its perimeter at my leisure.
Explore the option of self-divorce, proceeding on grounds of irreconcilable differences with myself. Retain an attorney ready to represent both sides of the case despite the obvious conflict of interest.
Get in on the booming market for random product placements. Clear away space in my casual conversation for 30- and 60-second plugs of light beer and smart phones.
Spare no expense -- nor incur any.
Donate all my family baggage to the Salvation Army. All those accumulated childhood memories clutter up the closets in our apartment.
Introduce the Too Much Information Act. Aim it at all the people who talk as if under the impression they're being paid by the word.
Open a thrift shop for everyone whose New Year's resolutions wind up broken. Someone else, given a shot at the same aspirations, may do better.
If dawn breaks, fix it right away. Otherwise the day might never get officially started. And if dusk falls, by all means catch it.
Rent a room for improvement. Most real estate brokers can find you a deal, depending on the neighborhood.
Create a PowerPoint presentation about my accomplishments in life, complete with pie charts and bar graphs, just in case a higher authority ever calls on me to justify my existence.
Love everyone equally, just some more than others.
Bob Brody, an executive and essayist in New York City, blogs at letterstomykids.org.
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