I started my new year as I stepped outside in strangely warm weather, with sweatpants, thigh high boots, and my clothes from the night before stuffed in a yellow grocery bag. I was looking a little disheveled. Although, my glittery gold eyeliner managed to pull through. Fingers crossed for a year like the dazzling endurance of that gold eyeliner, which would linger for the next 24 hours.

Not much more than two hours later on the way home, we tackled the GWB. The GW on New Years was probably one of the most obnoxious things that could happen for the rest of the year (a girl could hope anyways), people driving to and from the city, people leaning on their horns, and an overall mess and disappearance of lanes. Traffic, an abundance of accidents, and countless people pulled over on the side of the road (more specifically to throw up in the closest storm drain) probably sums off New Years Day travel. (We feel ya, buddy.)

Our “New Year, New Me” mentality is one in hopes of becoming healthier, friendlier, more successful, one who welcomes opportunities, praying for the strength to close old doors, and even more strength to be able to open new ones. We work for a killer body, and check our horoscopes hoping that this year has good things in store for us, love, success, money, money, and more money.

Well, 2017, it’s been a solid three days and you managed to test my strength more in the past 72 hours than you did the whole month of December. In addition to persistent double pneumonia, you have given me “love” and I use the term loosely, a lovely unwarranted email from res life, and well. Crappy weather. I won't dive into detail here but I guess it could be worse.

Honestly, the start of my year wasn’t bad at all. I got to spend time with my family, have some down time to myself, binge watch Friends (what else would I be watching), not have to worry about classes, and had some pretty awesome leftovers (new year, same old eating habits.)

We have too many expectations for December 31st and the weeks that follow. The reason why none of us are able to stick to this “New Year, New Me” thing, which I hate terribly, is because we dive too hard too fast and expect way too much. It’s unrealistic, just because the date on the calendar has changed, doesn’t mean we magically become a new person, are handed our knight in shining armor, and a stick thin bod. This isn’t Disney, and as much as we may like to wish, we’re not princesses. What I’m saying, and what I’m hoping to do myself this year, is to pace myself. I’m not going to go from eating a bowl of penne vodka, to a stalk of celery. But I can cut down and try to eat a more balanced meal. And as much as I wish I can get my butt up in the morning and run for 3 hours, it’s not going to happen. So start by exercising for an hour, and work on making it a habit. Try to genuinely enjoy the new choices you’re making. Not because you feel like you should be doing it because it’s a new year, but because it’s healthy, and because you want to.