Rick Elway began to make a list of his New Year’s resolutions. He made two orderly columns, and numbered the rows one through ten. He began filling in the spots immediately.
1. I will refrain from throwing out the entire bowl of cereal after some gets soggy.
2. I will stop referring to area south of Portland Street as “That part of town—you know”.
3. I will feed my own iguana
4. I will count all my golf shots. Even the “practice” ones.
5. I will no longer answer the phone “Hey, loser” if the person is a loser.
6. I will drive the speed limit.
7. I will stop underlining parts of library books that I don’t agree with.
8. I will limit karaoke nights to Fridays and Saturdays only. And Tuesdays.
Most of the resolutions came easily. However, Rick was two short. He studied the incomplete list intently, wracking is brain for flaws. He spent at least five minutes trying to fill out the last spaces.
With no ideas forthcoming, he put down his pen. Who was he kidding? He balled up the list and threw it in the bin.
There was no point trying to improve on perfection.