10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!

And now the people are winching. And there are folk crying into their prosecco about how they are going into 2018 single. And yes, there’s people taking selfies then shouting to their pals about “How this is the first Snapchat of the year.” Oh, and don’t forget the drunken hugs between people who met 10 minutes ago – that’d never happen on your normal night out. But, it’s new year, so anything goes.

Now, you may be wondering where I am in all these goings-on. Am I a wincher? A Snapchat junkie? A serial hugger?

Oh no, no, no. I’m not cool enough to be any of those things. Instead, I’m in the corner frantically writing down all my new year resolutions and posting them on Facebook to shame me into sticking to them.

Well, at least for 24 hours until I delete the post out of embarrassment.

Making completely unrealistic and far-fetched resolutions for the upcoming year is something at which I personally excel. Some people sew, some bake, some dance… and over the years I’ve made plans to learn how to do all of those things.

Let’s skip back to 2015 – a time when Ed Sheeran was Thinking Out Loud and I was adamant I was going off chocolate. It seemed simple enough: I’d once stopped eating it for a whole three days when I came down with a sickness bug, so surely I had this one in the bag?

At first I’d say it was successful, I was eating more fruit, was telling everyone how much of a goddess I was now I was chocolate free and turned my nose up at anyone still getting in amongst their sweets from Christmas.

However, fast forward a week and I couldn’t take it any longer – I buckled and ate more Celebrations than the Vicar of Dibley after she got dumped.

I even ate the Bounty ones. A modern-day tragedy.

So it’s 2016 –  I’d already tried the whole ‘going aff-it’ thing, so figured this time I would do something new.

Most people would maybe pledge to read more books, spend more time with loved ones or take a packed lunch to Uni to save them £3 a day on a glorious Greggs meal deal.

Not me though. I decided to take up tap dancing! A keen dancer when I was younger, I committed to being the female Fred Astaire and purchased a rather expensive pair of tap shoes before having to give it up due to work commitments.

Oh and 2017 was the year of the man. It was the year I decided that I was going to find myself a boyfriend, go on holidays, get him to take candid photos of me living my best life and finally have someone to drink hot chocolate at the Edinburgh Markets with.

Did that happen? No it didn’t. Was it a realistic resolution? Abso-bloody-loutely not. Am I still living my best Bridget Jones life? I sure as hell am.

So, another new year. I’m writing this just a mere 148 hours into the 8760 that have been allocated to 2018 (Ps. I Googled this therefore my figures may not be correct, and I did get 33% on my maths exam, so I can’t even check it.)

This year I decided that I’m not making any ridiculous resolutions as they just end up broken and I end up greetin’ by week two. Instead, I’m planning on making better choices when it comes to my health, my studies, my attitude and my motivation.

Yes, that might sound quite a lot, but they are all achievable as I haven’t just plucked them out of the blue, they are all things I have realised I need to make minor adjustments to.

And I’m not publicising them this year as they’re all choices made by me, for me.

So, you ask, what’s your point, Amy? Well, resolutions don’t have to be far-fetched, they aren’t meant to make you miserable and they certainly don’t concern anyone but yourself unless you choose to share them.

Don’t be scared to try new things or be upset if you fall off the bandwagon – we’re only human and well, there’s always next year.

Oh, and I lied. I am going to go to every single lecture this semester.

Now there’s a resolution we all know will be scrapped by week three…

By Amy Shearer