Now that columnists, pundits, Oprah, moms, dads, brothers, sisters, friends and gerbils have publicly proclaimed their new year's resolutions, let me make just one: Nevermore.

These things serve only to pile guilt upon already festering sores. Fat people resolve to eat less and exercise more. By the time summer rolls around, two more rolls have been added. Smokers resolve to quit. When they look at their progress after two months, they have to smoke an extra pack a day to work through the stress. Heavy drinkers promise that they'll quit (or at least cut back). But it's the winter! You don't quit drinking when it's cold. How stupid can you get?

Anyway, there are a thousand other resolutions that can be made. My wife Barbara has decided that every week we will work on something in the house. This is a fine goal, I guess, but when it's put in terms of a resolution there's something of a sacred trust involved. Like if some weekend we decide to rent a couple of movies and cookout instead of regrouting the tub, there's this feeling that we've committed a mortal sin of some sort.

Funny thing is, of course, so far we're two-for-two. Last weekend (not quite the new year, but close) we installed tile in our doorway, and this weekend I fixed the bathroom sink (which had been leaking). I'm real happy to put forth this "fixer-upper" notion as a goal, but not a resolution.

The idea of a goal has a somewhat more nebulous quality about it. It doesn't have to be attained immediately, and progress can be spotty. As long as you progress toward it, then you're on the right track. I'm a big fan of goals.

But not resolutions, if only because once you've broken the resolution, there seems to be little point in following up on it. For example, I try to go to the gym three times a week. Most weeks, I get there at least twice, but I do three times a week maybe once a month. Some weeks, I only get there once. If this had been a resolution, I would have already gone off the rails. Resolution broken; forget about the gym. Since this is only a goal, however, I just go when I can. I don't beat myself up when I don't get down to the Y three times a week, but I do try and get myself into a routine that gets me moving in that direction.

There's also the grandiose ritual of resolutions that reminds me of organized religion. You know, where the people stand up and do their "witness" for Jesus. This public display of silliness (no matter how much you really believe it) is intended, in no small part, to make yourself look good. You aren't doing anything but promising to be a better person, and yet you stand there and wait for applause.

Sorry, not from me.

I'm a big believer in goals. In fact, I always have about a hundred goals of different sorts running on any given day. But I don't make resolutions.

Some of you will argue that I'm merely splitting semantic hairs, that there's no difference between a resolution and a goal. Well, there are a couple I haven't mentioned yet.

Goals can be set and achieved at any time. New year's resolutions are generally set in motion on a given January 1. Many of them (though certainly not all) are vague and generally can't be achieved. They're more like rules for living or something.

My main opposition to resolutions, however, remains the "sin" factor. At some point, going against a resolution feel good because you are being naughty. Playing hooky from the resolution, as it were. Going against a goal never feels good. At least, I can't think of a way in which it would. And in the end, that makes a goal a far more reasonable (and palatable) method of self-improvement.

If we all resolve to quit resolving, we just might feel a whole lot better about just about everything.

Jon Worley resolves to never use "self-improvement" in another column.