Next year, I will fold my clean clothes

And put them away in a timely manner,

Instead of daily digging in laundry baskets

Leaving clothes on the closet floor scattered.

 

Next year, I will get my plants in the ground 

Within only a few days of purchasing them,

Instead of putting it off for months and months

Planting in winter when everything looks grim.

 

Next year, I will grab a book when I’m bored

And try to learn about something unknown,

Instead of wasting hours of my day 

On that time-suck I call my phone.

 

Next year, I will help my husband out 

And cook a couple of times a week,

Instead of asking him every single night

For a plan when it’s dinner we seek.

 

Next year, I will put my garden tools away

And keep my potting table clean,

Instead of leaving pruners outside to rust

And a cluttered garage that makes me scream.

 

Next year, I will write something every day

Even if it’s only a sentence or two,

Instead of trying to keep words captive in my brain

Only to discover that overnight they flew.

 

Next year, I will try to be calm and tolerant

When customers are acting quite cranky,

Instead of rolling my eyes and cutting them off

So they know just how annoyed they make me.

 

Next year, I will do more than talk

When I want to hang out with my friends,

Instead of saying, “Let’s do something soon!”

But don’t schedule before conversations end.

 

Next year, I will focus on all I accomplished;

I’ll have kinder and grace-filled inner thoughts,

Instead of self-loathing for what didn’t get done

And ending the day stressed and distraught.

 

Next year, I will be on my couch in December

Most likely frustrated and wondering how,

I sabotaged myself and screwed up again

All those promises I’m making right now.