Trouble Every Day
Every new year we promise, every second day of the year we forget. New Years seems to trigger the perfectionist in every one of us. We all try to keep our promises to be flawless individuals for a while, and then we realize our own nature: We're not meant to be so. You buy a new notebook and begin writing slowly and neatly on the first couple of pages; and when the lectures gets faster and more complicated, your notebook looks like a doctor’s. This is exactly what New Year promises are about.
I don’t know why, but these promises usually include something to do with losing weight, especially for women. I find that amusing. A minority of the world, meaning the peoples of more urbanized countries, try to arrange diet programs to eat less and lose weight; whereas the majority of the world's population works hard to be able to find something to eat. Why should the priority of self-promises be about physical appearance? This I cannot explain. No one says I’ll watch less TV, everyone goes for diets. Maybe it is easier to communicate with people if you're in shape and have a bit of knowledge about what's on TV, that’s why.
Although the holiday could be a longer one, the best thing you can do is to hope the 1st of January does not meet a Monday. You will see that fake promises would double in that case, since every Monday is like the official beginning of the diet week for women, like the yearly official budget of the government or something. Don’t think I’m undervaluing the struggle for self-development, in fact I appreciate it. It’s not bad seeing slim girls around.
“I don’t care if it hurts. I want to have control. I want a perfect body.
I want a perfect soul.” Remember? Few can pass through the hurting part though, because although there’s in fact less competition there, the process lasts longer than we would imagine.
Today should be the sixth, so most of the promises must have been forgotten by now. Regardless of how many Mondays or New Years there are, listen to what Tindersticks say in their famous song: “But I need to know how to find a place; before the days become nights, before the years become lives… There’s trouble everyday.”

Efe Peker (POLS/IV)