The speaker answers a writing prompt about what she resisted before it suited her by flatly refusing the question: she doesn't do things she resists. What follows is a cheerful list of dislikes, from swimming and yoga to beets, martinis, early phone calls, committee meetings, and even literary criticism. Some reasons are practical (sinking like a stone, sore hips), others simply a matter of taste, and the humor comes from how firmly and specifically she states them.
The tone shifts near the end. Her stubbornness, she says, doesn't shrink her life; it suits her. By comparing her resistances to window screens and waterproof jackets and boots, she reframes them as protection rather than closed-mindedness. The final lines, "They keep me unbitten. / They keep me dry," are short and satisfied. The mood is playful and a little defiant, with a quiet confidence in knowing exactly what she likes.