Disappointment comes easily to me. I may not be good at much, but I have to hand it to me, with disappointment, I'm as good as anyone else. Some people - people I think of as better adjusted and generally of a more mentally healthy disposition - are good at something known as 'acceptance.' I have nothing but admiration for them.

I, on the other hand, can be disappointed in all sorts of ways, at a moment's notice and, indeed, for very small reasons. It is not that I am a malcontent. It is that I seem to be afflicted by many and varied expectations.

Someone once said, 'Expectations are premeditated resentments.' Some people think Neil Strauss, author of The Truth - an Uncomfortable Book About Relationships, is the person to thank for this neat turn of phrase. Others think it comes out of the Alcoholics Anonymous groups. Whoever said it, I thank them. It is unlikely I would ever have come up with it and it's a really good line.

Today, this very day, the first of the year, is a day on which people like to make lists of things they plan on doing differently. Or maybe they made the list before and today is the day on which they mean to begin the new things.

Today they will start getting up on time; they will begin exercising; they will be more patient with their small children and elderly parents. Today, people the world over, have promised themselves they will eat more healthily, quit smoking, take better care of their spiritual lives, and learn the foxtrot.

All of these good intentions are good ideas up until the point at which they are put to the test. Then, more often than not, they become those really good things we meant to do until crisis, flood, famine, lack of baby-sitters, busy schedules, and stress got in the way,

But back to expectations and resentments. Disappointment in myself comes fast and with a vengeance when I don't live up to my own expectations of myself. This is why I don't make resolutions (for the new year or at any time). Trying is a thing I am able to follow through on. I work on trying a lot and I can't recommend it highly enough. Trying, as opposed to making a pact with myself, keeps me sane.

With trying I know I can keep going - and here's the really important bit - without judgment. If I had an expectation that I was going to behave in a certain way, disappointment would follow if I didn't. And enough disappointment almost certainly festers into resentment. I have enough angst in my life without adding the misery of self-resentment to the mix.

Consider my dog. Dog is on a new diet that comprises exactly one kind of special chow, three times a day. Dog, to put it mildly, is horrified. Dog previously lived in a world filled with surprise treats, home-made dinners, left-over cat food, and anything-that-fell-to-the-floor.

Now, thrice a day, vile-chow-from-a-bag is doled out, exactly one cup at a time. Dog, someone accustomed to the aforementioned manner of eating, did not imagine such a fate could befall him. So, when he was given his first bland-chow meal, he refused it.