The world is amazing. Once in a blue moon, the Earth and whatever higher-power you believe in (or don’t), collaborate to grant you not one, but two, opportunities to thoroughly disappoint yourself by making garbage resolutions you’ll ultimately abandon. This is one of those special years.

The magic of leap year is upon us. In all likelihood you’ve dropped the resolutions you so faithfully made this January — the SERF has been looking notably emptier. But fear not, it’s round two. In case you’re struggling between reading more books and kicking that pesky drug habit, we have a few suggestions all Badgers might benefit from.

I will not wear Timberlands

Everybody knows you paid more than $100 on shoes to make it look like you’re the type of person who would never pay over $100 for shoes. At the very least, check your friends feet before you all strut to the KK, or set some sort of limit for the greater good.

I will stop telling everyone how many steps my Fitbit has counted

Everyone is just wondering if kicking your ass counts as a step — and they’ll probably do it regardless.

I solemnly swear to stop bringing all of Witte 8B to my friend’s apartment

Somebody was kind-hearted enough to open their door to you, and generous enough to sacrifice his or her carpet to an inevitable barrage of slushy boots (probably Timbs) and leaky water bottles filled to the brim with Franzia. The least you can do is refrain from opening your “WITTE 8BAE <3 <3 <3” GroupMe, pasting the address, and showing up with 14 plastered friends who reek of pineapple Burnett’s and will probably make out with each other in the bathroom.

I will do away with wearing shorts to impress girls when the temperature is below my GPA

We can see your red kneecaps, we can hear your gentle shivering and we can smell the desperation. Frostbite is so last leapyear.

I will refrain from referring to the water fountain as the bubbler

A bubbler is a $45 to $50 drug smoking apparatus. If you say you’re getting a drink from the bubbler, anyone from outside of Oconomowoc, Wisconsin will assume your preferred method of hydration is bong water. Maybe it is, but if it’s not, call it a damn water fountain.

I will not try to jaywalk at University Avenue and Charter Street

There’s a sneaky right turn from Charter Street onto University Avenue and you probably don’t want to be that one person conspicuously traversing the busiest intersection on campus.

I vow to pick a table of my own size at the library

One person never needs a six-person table at College Library unless they have been paid $6 million to piss everyone off. If you think a cubicle is constraining, think how constraining that special place in Hell reserved for those who monopolize a 6 foot long, 4 foot wide table will be.

I give my word that I, under no circumstances, will show people my location in Wisconsin using the hand

Hey, you could just say “Sheboygan” and save yourself the time of breaking into a wide grin and absentmindedly poking around the bottom of your palm.

I make a holy covenant to never, ever speak well of Minnesota

Before you say anything, I’m from Minnesota. But you and I chose Wisconsin, so if you’re not putting in work brainstorming filthy jokes about the Gophers, it isn’t too late to start. You can be loyal to the homestead over Thanksgiving.

One day can change your life. Happy leaping!