Goals

I know all about goal setting.  I don’t think there’s an idea more American than setting goals.  After all, America isn’t about what you are born with, but what you make of yourself. And if you are going to make anything of yourself, you have to set goals.  

So I know the drill.  Goals must be clearly defined, measurable, obtainable, and written down.  I think I knew this before I started kindergarten.

The problem is, whenever I hear of someone else’s goal, there is this part of me that thinks I need to set that goal, too.  Even when I don’t want to have that goal.  For example, I have a friend who set a goal to run a half marathon.  I don’t run.  I mean, if I were being chased by bad guys I would run, but short of that, I am happy to just walk.  But now that she has set this goal, I feel walking might be inadequate.  

My sister is trying to give up soda.  That’s fine.  But now this little voice in my head wonders if I should be giving up soda, too.  But I really don’t want to.  I like my Diet Coke.  I like it a lot.  Basically, you will take it from me when you pry it from my cold dead hands.  

So this leaves me with internal angst.  I think the answer might be to set my own goals and then maybe I won’t feel like such a slacker.  But now we’re getting down to the nitty gritty.  You see, I’m not feeling all that motivated to make big improvements in my life right now.  I’m kind of happy with the status quo.  

I can’t believe I’m confessing this.

I don’t want to be any fitter than I am.  I take a long walk every day and that does it for me.  I don’t want to eat any healthier than I do.  I like my chocolate and I’m a sucker for french fries.  I don’t want to go back to college for another degree.  I’ll rest on my laurels for a while.  I don’t want to go to a third world country and save the children.  The idea sounds really noble, but they eat such strange food in those places.

When I was working, they wanted me to set goals.  I hated that.  “Show up and do a good job” wasn’t an acceptable goal.  It wasn’t measurable.  I finally settled on “No more than 2 tardies a year” which was a joke because I’ve never been tardy a day in my life.  My private goal was “Keep everyone alive during my shift”, but that turned out to be unattainable, because, unfortunately, I am not a god.

It’s not that there isn’t room for improvement in my life.  I know it.  You don’t have to point it out to me.   And I’ll do it.  I will.  Okay, here we go.  By Christmas I will have set a goal to improve myself in each of the following categories:  Physical, Social, Intellectual, and Spiritual.  Phew.  Glad that’s over.  I’m proud to be an American.