Resolutions...

Her news feed was full of helpful hints on how to be the very best possible her in the new year. How to make resolutions that stick. How to hack your genes to become "healthy." How to think and grow rich. 

Work out more.
Eat less.

Get a thigh gap by Valentine's Day.

Stop smoking.

Start vaping.
Stop vaping.

Read more. 

Read better books.

Listen to books instead of reading them.

Invest in yourself. 

Invest with us.

On and on and on. 

So many voices telling her that she was not enough. That there was something else she should be doing. Some other better version of herself that was just waiting to be released.

It was all bullshit. 

Just the world trying to make a buck off of insecurities that wouldn't exist if someone wasn't out there trying to make a buck off of them.

She was tired of it. 

This year she was making new resolutions.

So far her list was: 

I resolve to find the people who write New Year, New You! articles and make them wish they had never been born.

I resolve to photoshop every photo of an influencer showing off a thigh gap adding horrific Lovecraftian monsters in the space where there should be thighs.

I resolve to post my stats about how long and how far I could run if I were chasing them on every article shaming people for not being as fit as this new 30 Day program could make them. 

I resolve to post the amount of money people are making off of selling you get rich quick schemes. Showing that the get rich part is them, off of you. 

I resolve to support people who want to quit smoking or vaping. (She actually believed that was the right thing to do, she just didn't want to send people selling stupid craving cures money)

I resolve to do evil to those perpetuating evil when given the chance. 

She looked over the list and felt it was a good start. 

Now off to find some pictures to photoshop.

No rest for the wicked in 2024, not as long as she could help it.