New Years Resolution: Keep Using the Phrase 'If a guy can build a buttslap bot that feels fear, then I can ___'

My New Years resolutions are about the same as everyone elses; be tidier. Be a tidier person, keep a tidier house, think tidier thoughts. I am assuming we're all going to have the decency to not bring these up a month down the line when you catch me eating my fourth chocolate dipped doughnut in a row and crying because I can't remember the lyrics to Gaston's song Beauty and Beast (who bites and is burly and strong? Gaston, brain. GASTON.).

No, I'd like to play more videogames. The problem when you're broke is that every minute you're not doing something that tangibly relates to plans for making you not broke, you're feeling that oppressed wheeze of guilt. Obviously I'm not the Superman, that doesn't mean I then go put my nose down and grind out more incredible pitches to get rebuffed, what it means is instead of playing a wonderful video game that I could wind down or get inspired by or just laugh at, I sit and I feel bad.

I can see this attitude is a reflection fairly clearly of my upbringing; we were a house very much of indirect requests. At any time I learnt to expect a parent drifting in to ask what I was doing and how long I was planning on doing it for, or Legolas-level observations on what I was doing ('you're lying in bed!' 'you're drawing at night!'), a kind of lower-middle class nagging I'm fairly sure most lower-middle class kids are familiar with. Back then I'd build dens in the bathroom, the only room with a lock on the door, but now I'm 24 and there are no parents, no one in here except the voice that makes me feel guilty on my downtime, and there are no quilts and no bathrooms with enticing locks in my head.

Of course this could all be a part of being tidier; there's nothing tidier then fun unbridled by an edge of quilt, but I'm assuming it'll probably be easier to focus on making my bed every morning then tackling entrenched behavioral issues. What the hey, though, right? it's 2014! if some guy can make a butt robot that fears being slapped then I can probably power up that last Assassin's Creed I never got around to without thinking about the dishes.