This year, I hope that at least once a day you hurt the muscles in your stomach laughing – but not at someone’s expense. (Something dirty would be acceptable.) I hope this laughter is so intense that your abs become rock solid and you feel more than comfortable in swimwear by May. I hope that every public restroom that you enter in the next twelve months is fully stocked with pristine, unadulterated toilet paper. I hope you make at least one baby laugh, because it releases euphoric chemicals in the human brain without producing side effects or damaging brain cells. I hope that you remain so healthy this year that you produce a noticeable decline in your insurance company’s annual profits. I hope you go to a new, disorienting place in comfortable walking shoes and never feel stuck where you are. I hope you become more yourself and have lots of silences among good friends that don’t feel awkward.