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Question Numbers: 8-10
The New Year is a time for resolutions. Mentally, at least most of us could compile formidable lists of ‘do’s’ and ‘don’ts’. The same old favourites recur year in and year out with monotonous regularity. We resolve to get up earlier each morning, eat less, find more time to play with the children, do a thousand and one jobs about the house, be nice to people we don't like, drive carefully, and take the dog for a walk every day. Past experience has taught us that certain accomplishments are beyond attainment. If we remain deep - rooted liars, it is only because we have so often experienced the frustration that results from failure. Most of us fail in our of efforts at self-improvement because our schemes are too ambitious and we never have time to carry them out. We also make the fundamental error of announcing our resolutions to everybody so that we look even more foolish when we slip back into our bad old ways. Aware of these pitfalls, this year I attempted to keep my resolutions to myself. I limited myself to two modest ambitions: to do physical exercise every morning and to read more in the evening. An all-night party on New Year’s Eve provided me with a good excuse for not carrying out either of these new resolutions on the first day the year, but on the second, I applied myself assiduously to the task. The daily exercise lasted only eleven minutes and I proposed to do them early in the morning before anyone had got up. The self discipline required to drag myself out of bed eleven minutes earlier than usual was considerable. Nevertheless, I managed to creep down into the living room for two days before anyone found me out. After jumping about on the carpet and twisting the human frame into uncomfortable position, I set down at the breakfast table in an exhausted condition. It was this that betrayed me. The next morning the whole family trooped in to watch the performance. That was really unsettling but I fended off the taunts and jibes of the family good humouredly and soon everybody got used to the idea. However, my enthusiasm wanted, the time I spent at exercises gradually diminished. Little by little, the eleven minutes fell to zero. By January 10th, I was back to where. I had started from.
The New Year is a time for resolutions. Mentally, at least most of us could compile formidable lists of ‘do’s’ and ‘don’ts’. The same old favourites recur year in and year out with monotonous regularity. We resolve to get up earlier each morning, eat less, find more time to play with the children, do a thousand and one jobs about the house, be nice to people we don't like, drive carefully, and take the dog for a walk every day. Past experience has taught us that certain accomplishments are beyond attainment. If we remain deep - rooted liars, it is only because we have so often experienced the frustration that results from failure. Most of us fail in our of efforts at self-improvement because our schemes are too ambitious and we never have time to carry them out. We also make the fundamental error of announcing our resolutions to everybody so that we look even more foolish when we slip back into our bad old ways. Aware of these pitfalls, this year I attempted to keep my resolutions to myself. I limited myself to two modest ambitions: to do physical exercise every morning and to read more in the evening. An all-night party on New Year’s Eve provided me with a good excuse for not carrying out either of these new resolutions on the first day the year, but on the second, I applied myself assiduously to the task. The daily exercise lasted only eleven minutes and I proposed to do them early in the morning before anyone had got up. The self discipline required to drag myself out of bed eleven minutes earlier than usual was considerable. Nevertheless, I managed to creep down into the living room for two days before anyone found me out. After jumping about on the carpet and twisting the human frame into uncomfortable position, I set down at the breakfast table in an exhausted condition. It was this that betrayed me. The next morning the whole family trooped in to watch the performance. That was really unsettling but I fended off the taunts and jibes of the family good humouredly and soon everybody got used to the idea. However, my enthusiasm wanted, the time I spent at exercises gradually diminished. Little by little, the eleven minutes fell to zero. By January 10th, I was back to where. I had started from.
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