I don’t do new year’s resolutions.
What’s the point?
Setting restrictions on yourself that make you just want to reach for the bottle or the cake more than you would have done normally.
Set goals for yourself that are often massively unrealistic and only set you up for a fall and a 70 quid a month gym membership.
However I did decide to do one thing this year.
Make better use of my money.
And no, I’m not talking about consolidating my loans or putting my phone bill up for tender.
I’m talking about spending my money on more things that matter.
My mate Ben summed it up lovely on the train home last night.
“I go out and spend £60 getting shitfaced but I look at a £30 shirt and think…ooop I better not'”.
I’m paraphrasing. Knowing Ben, this included a thousand more ‘fucks’.
But the premise is bang on and total in line with the nearest thing I’ve got to a resolution.
Our priorities on what our money should be sent on is a bit skewed.
We won’t turn a hair to a round in the pub that costs us nearly £25 after work one night because we want to let off some steam, catch up with mates or had a shit meeting.
But we leave those boots that aren’t scuffed, don’t look as older than they are and will actually make us feel great going to work for a while in our ASOS basket for weeks at a time.
We also look at a birthday night out and brush off ‘well that’ll be best part of a tonne once we’ve been for food and got a couple of cabs’ but will not go for a weekend away because that feels extravagant and £50 on a B&B for the night makes us think twice.
Last year I officially got bored of it.
Getting to the end of the month having not much more to show for your hard work than some Wednesday night pints.
Last week we booked flights to go to Rome for 3 days.
The flights cost 2.5 rounds in the pub.
Last weekend we went to an exhibition and walked around some museums on a Saturday afternoon and got some culture and air in our lungs.
The exhibition cost me less than the last uber I got home.
I didn’t go for a pint on the way home from lunch because a pint normally means two and I’ve seen some boots on sale that there are a whole £30 and I know they’ll make me feel pretty for the next few weeks.
2 pints, some cheesy chips and another late night will not.
I’m running the London Marathon 2018 for my Nan.
You can read my story and donate to Alzheimers Society here: