Returned Resolutions

Sam stretched out her long legs on the now, clutter-free floor. The last remnants of Christmas were neatly packed away, ready to bundle into the attic once again. Normally she would have this done long before New Year’s Eve but her little seaside bakery had been bustling with the most recent influx of tourists and her flat upstairs had taken a back seat on the list of priorities. Sam leaned back against the wall smiling happily, feeling her muscles begin to relax. There was no denying it had been hard work, up every morning at six o’clock sharp to get the ovens heated up and not slowing down until long after the closed sign went up. This was what she loved though and soon the tourists would return to their everyday lives and the sleepy seaside town on the coast of Devon would fall quiet for the rest of winter. Sam’s eyes felt heavy but forty winks at this time would be a risky game to play, her friends would be heading down to their local pub soon and she’d promised to join them before the fireworks display at the beach. Instead, she decided to throw herself into sorting the small set of drawers beside her. They were piled high with junk. Full of age-old bills and bank statements ‘just in case’, a set of keys that had no obvious use, a vast array of pens that had seemingly vanished into the abyss back when she had needed one. Everyone has one of these drawers in some form and Sam had been neglecting this one for some time. She piled up the letters neatly on the side knowing full well she would probably end up putting them back again later. She delved deeper, bidding goodbye to a few empty rolls of tape when she stumbled upon a notebook. Flicking through it had a few scribblings of plans for new products in the bakery, reminders for errands, most of which she still hadn’t done. Turning the pages, something caught her eye, New Year’s Resolutions - 2019. She thought back to last year, she had sat in this very room, dreaming up ideas of what the next 12 months might send her way. Not taking her eyes from the notebook she wandered over to the slightly faded cream sofa, it had seen better days but it was just too comfortable to get rid of. She sank down into it, folding her legs beneath her as she continued to read.

Resolution 1 - Earn big bucks from the bakery. 

Sam snorted loudly. Clearly at the time of writing this she had been high on delusions of grandeur she thought, laughing to herself. The bakery meant the world to her, her heart and soul had been poured into the place and she was immensely proud that it was still ticking over nicely. That being said, there were only a few hundred locals who lived in the town all year round, enough for a modest living if she worked hard but it was hardly a multi-million-pound empire like she had apparently hoped. 

Resolution 2 - Fall in love with a handsome tourist who will inevitably move to Devon and live with you at the bakery, happily ever after. 

Perhaps she had been high on something else, something more potent Sam wondered, cringing at her own cliché. She caught sight of her reflection in the rain speckled window across the room, her messy brown locks were scraped together in a bird's nest on top of her head. Her comfiest band t-shirt from many years ago, swamping her small frame and her leggings that were baggy in the knees and were also generously coated in a mix of paint and bleach. Lucky fella, she thought, giggling to herself. 

Resolution 3 - Learn a new language

That would explain those, Sam thought as she allowed her eyes to wander over to the small stack of ‘French for Dummies’ textbooks that had remained untouched on her bookshelf. “C'est la vie” she shrugged, knowing they would likely still be there come next year. 

Resolution 4 - Eat healthier

Memories of the three croissants she’d had for her lunch lingered on her lips as she started to wonder if anyone really stuck to their resolutions. 

The buzz of her mobile phone sounded from deep within the cushions beside her and dragged her from her thoughts. It was from her friend, Christian who was already a few drinks in, down at the pub. He was questioning where she was and kindly informing her that it was her round already. Sam smiled thinking about her friends who were there waiting for her. She thought about her mum and dad who had called earlier to wish her a Happy New Year, before the phone lines got full, of course. Sam had long since given up trying to explain that one away. Her parents had moved to Bath earlier this year to be closer to their grandchildren, Sam’s gorgeous yet wild niece and nephew. Her brother often brought them down during school holidays to run riots around her shop. She loved nothing more than filling them with her latest sugary delights before bundling them into her arms and racing them down to the beach to let off steam. She thought about her bakery downstairs, about the tourists who came back each holiday because they just had to have her famous Devonshire cream tea, cream first, then the jam of course.

 Looking down at the notepad in front of her she wondered how she could have ever asked for anything more. The truth was she already had everything she could wish for. Sure, she might not be super-rich and her very limited french might have been learned from a girl band rather than a book but it didn’t matter, none of that mattered. She didn’t need resolutions. Sam was perfectly content. She smiled gratefully as she closed the pages of her notebook, returning it to the draw once again.