Next year I might even breathe twice

I'm usually not interested in making New Years' Resolutions. I understand why some people do, and I understand the psychological importance of why it feels right to begin on January 1st, but it just doesn't grab me.

Should this year be any different?
Should I, for example, explore any of the following avenues of self-betterment?

1) Resolving to be more helpful the next time my imaginary friend needs to be bailed out of jail.

2) Stop referring to Brussels Sprouts as "Those Freaky Cabbage Testicles".

3) Start recycling expired milk by pouring it into the cars of people who took the parking spot I wanted. (Note to self: If caught, tell police it was the imaginary friend's idea again)

4) Get more oxygen by breathing one extra time per day.

5) Develop new breakfast cereal called "Compost Flakes". Target market: masochistic gardeners with no taste buds. (In case they were the ones who stole my parking spot, they can also use my expired milk for their cereal).
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Or, I can always just continue the usual protocol of being friends with myself the way I already am, (lumps and bumps and all), still pausing for the occasional angsty moment of self-doubt.
I dunno, though.
That extra breath of oxygen might come in handy.
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