The resolution foundation. Ten steps in the new decade

1 The How Dare You challenge. Greta Thunberg, after whom a Glasgow gritter (Gritter Thunberg) is named, blamed you and I and most of the rest of the developed world for the mess we have made of the planet. When she did it he had just spent 15 days at sea, fortified by Kwells and righteous indignation, sailing from Plymouth to New York to excoriate anyone over 16, at a UN climate (in)action summit. Setting off from Plymouth was clearly symbolic, it’s from where the Pilgrim Fathers left for the United States to set up the first permanent colony and, in due course, the subsequent wiping out of most of the native population. The annual farrago known as the climate control conference is coming to Glasgow in November. You’ll know it by the incessant whine of private jets arriving and the pall of fumes over the city from the leaders’ chauffeur-driven limos. If wee Greta doesn’t juke about the place in her gritter she will have missed a brilliant photo opportunity. Your resolution is to avoid plastic packaging for January (well we know the limits of your resolution) and to put a brick in your toilet cistern to save water.

2 Put Woke to sleep. The word emerged around two decades ago signifying someone in tune with racial and justice issues, but it was quickly commodified and used in everything from rap songs to advertising jingles, or what was known as woke-washing. A whole dress and tonsorial code emerged with it, beards, sleeve tattoos and tartan shirts for men, short fringes, vivid hair colouring and, of course, tattoos for women. It isn’t just time to euthanise Woke, it’s time to strike it from the language. Don’t just resolve not to use it, get to the mirror and shave off the ridiculous posturing beard and, if a woman, forego Brazilians until at least Shrove Tuesday.

3 In politics any mention of Brexit is at banned until at least February 1, when we will be out of the EU, either with a deal or on our uppers. Not just Brexit but second referendum. Using all three in one sentence will, like the trigger phrase in The Ipcress File, induce hypnosis so profound and make you so suggestible that you’ll even be induced to laugh at Mrs Brown’s Boys. Help by switching of the TV news and stay off the internet and you should be safe. Continue to buy newspapers, of course, even two, but start reading from the back and when you get to the front page of the review section throw away the rest.

4 As everyone else has become a vegan – you can tell by the peely-wally pallor of folk – it’s now time to become a serious carnivore for the month. Never mind that you already eat meat, you have to do it for all the others. It’s an onerous task I grant you, but a noble one. If not for you and your ilk the cow would have gone the way of the Dodo, apart from in India obviously, and the last living chicken would be stuffed and in a case in Oxford Uni’s Museum of Natural History. It’s not as if you have to do it for too long, you can go back to the lettuce and lemongrass when the vegan fad passes, like the cow’s polluting wind, probably by May.

5 Ditch vinyl. You’ve already given up plastic haven’t you? If you’ve taken up vinyl collecting in your hipster phase, it’s time to get scrub it, like the beard. You are allowed to tape the records (tape is the new vinyl apparently, until it unravels, as it’s wont to) before you throw them out, but dispose of them ecologically, don’t be burning them like the Baptists did with Beatles records or you’ll punch another hole in the ether. Instead apply heat and some creativity and twist into your own objets d’art for instance. Console yourself that while a vinyl record may sound great for the first play it degrades faster than Bojo’s integrity, gets covered in scratches, fingerprints and drink rings and doesn’t fit through a letter box. And that James Blunt surely has a library full of them (mostly his own).

6) It’s time to resolve to take up a new sport. You may be so exhausted by following the resolutions above that the thought of hefting weights or charging around a wet field in January in shorts brings out the sloth in you. This is understandable. Start in a small way, a few hours on Football Manager for instance, lifting the glass with alternate hands, leaving the car at the kerb and walking to the bus, target another 1000 steps on your Fitbit, or go up stairs a couple of times when you don’t need to. But whatever sex you are – and I understand there may be more than two nowadays – get involved in women’s football, either as a player or as a spectator. Look up your local club and in the evening raise a toast to Rose Reilly, Scotland and Stewarton legend.

7) Go for a dry January. This involves a titanium-stern will I am told, although I’m not sure where you acquire it from. Start in a small way, build the minutes into hours and gradually increase to a day, or two. After that? Well, I’m not the best person to advise you. I did once go without for a fortnight but journeying to Tripoli and contracting typhus is both expensive and potentially deadly so you’re probably best joining some support group or going to the Alcohol Concern website for tips instead.

8) You’ve been fuming and shouting at that TV for the last year so now’s the time to switch it off for the month, or even longer, because it’s not worth paying the licence fee is it? although avoidance may still be a criminal offence. If you watch Miranda: My Such Fun Celebration on New Year’s Day you’ll be so jaundiced after it you should find it simple to kick the habit. But if you still can’t, a dose of Mrs Brown or Bake Off should do it. Resolve only to watch box sets this month. There are so many you’ll be spoiled for choice. I particularly recommend the French detective Spiral and the Italian Gomorrah, both with oodles of series and more bodies than Greyfriars Kirkyard.

9) Respect, it’s not just seven letters in an Aretha Franklin song or a European Football Association campaign, it’s for life, unlike most dogs. It seems incredibly daunting, so start in a small way. With a smile. This involves two muscles, I understand, the zygomatic major in the cheek and then orbicularis around the eyes. You can practise in front of a mirror. Once you’ve developed it you can add a nod. Practice it on a troublesome neighbour, then take it out into the wider world. That, and not dropping your chewing gum on the pavement is all you need.

10) All of this resolution programming has probably put you into a depressive state, like all of the characters on EastEnders. If the tall, dark stranger has turned up, then how dare you! as someone said. If she or he hasn't, then summon your resolve, go out cuddle a random one, it permissible on the night or, better still, pour a large drink, tear down the list and promise to do better in a year, or so.