Alright, so the New Year’s resolution hasn’t exactly been the successful endeavor you envisioned when you were hungover on New Year’s Day and ready to make some significantly better life decisions. There were likely the classic declarations to work out more or eat like a rabbit, which were going great until the next week when you went out on Thursday night and forced your Uber driver to pull into the Cookout drive thru, landing you with quesadillas, a milkshake and a whole lot of regret. You woke up the next morning knowing it wasn’t in the cards to get out of bed, let alone go to the gym. So, there go the resolutions. But wait! All of the sudden it’s February (by the way, how did that happen) and Lent is just around the corner.

Lent is a good way to challenge yourself because forty days is much more manageable than a whole year-long resolution. And, now this is the fun part, you get to bookend it with Fat Tuesday, a day to binge your heart out and feel significantly less guilty about it, and Easter, where you have to eat all of the candy in your basket (yes, I’m 20 years old) because you don’t want to upset the Big Man himself. The Easter Bunny, of course, not God. God probably doesn’t really care if you eat the plastic pink egg full of M&Ms or not. I don’t know. Anyway, its almost one full week into Lent and if you’re not struggling at this point, well, don’t talk to me because I’m not interested in hearing about that level of superhuman self-control. This year, I personally landed on becoming dairy-free for forty days. Which, it turns out, unintentionally but aggressively includes pretty much every dessert that I love (except the new non-dairy Ben and Jerry’s, thank goodness) and also most other things that bring me joy in life like cheese (read: Moe's queso).

So, through great personal struggle, I bring to you the five stages of giving up something you love for Lent (with a little help from Schmidt, the most relatable man in television):

1. Blind confidence.

You're so fired up about this whole Lent situation, you’re like JPP with a firework (just kidding Giants fans, still way too soon). But actually, you feel like you can do anything. Forty days? Don’t make me laugh. You’re invincible. Try and stop me. Put me in coach. Let’s go. I dare someone to throw a cheese plate in my face and just watch me while I stare it down.

2. Starting to waver in your convictions.

So, alright, do I really need to be doing this? Did I sign up for this? In theory it sounded like a good way to challenge myself but in reality I’m finding it really hard to ignore the magnetic pull of my body every time I walk past Ben and Jerry’s on 21^st. Someone hold me back or I’m going in. I didn’t choose this life. Chocolate fudge brownie chose me.

3. Subsequent anger and instability.

Anytime someone even mentions chocolate you just get angry. The nerve of these people. At this point, your cravings are out of control and every little thing just makes you mad. Your friend (boyfriend -- what’s that?) buys you a box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day and your first instinct is to just throw it right back in their face. But that’s not exactly in the spirit of the holiday, is it? So try to remember that this is your own personal struggle, and check yourself.

4. Reassertion in your stance.

OK, stay strong. You can do this. Forty days is nothing. It’s just a little over a month. Plus, spring break is coming up and these abs aren’t going to form themselves. A little time at the gym would do us all some good, right? Right.

5. The ultimate success.

Fast-forward 40 days -- you actually did it! This may or may not be the first time you’ve ever committed yourself to something and actually followed through, but hey who’s counting?! You’re feeling great, and you’re telling everyone within a 15-foot radius who will listen that you actually did it for the whole forty days. And on the inside, you’re planning the fastest route to the closest Ben and Jerry’s retail location. Because you deserve it.

So, only 33 more days. The light is barely visible at the end of the tunnel, but it's definitely there. We're all in this together.