w Year’s resolutions: the annual ritual of declaring war on your own bad habits while simultaneously proving that you, in fact, are your own worst enemy. “I’m going to learn Spanish, quit caffeine, organize my closet, and become someone who hits the gym every morning!” Aaaaand a few days later, it’s all on fire. New Year’s resolutions failing doesn’t even seem like an accident anymore; it feels as much a part of the tradition as resolutions in the first place.…
Carpe diem.” It’s the battle cry of motivational posters, Pinterest boards, and that one friend who just declared bankruptcy for the third time. It’s one of the oldest philosophical slogans around, first stated by Horace in 23 BCE. The poem he wrote it in, "Ode XI", is only eight lines long but, hoo boy, has it had legs. Look around and you still see versions of it everywhere – from “Dead Poets Society” to Nike (“Just Do It”), to #YOLO.…
ting. It’s the most basic human need, right up there with breathing and arguing on the internet. But we all tend to overdo it, especially around the holidays, when the phrase "biting off more than you can chew" is not a metaphor but a brutal, self-inflicted reality. Now if the weight gain arrived immediately, we’d change our habits. But there’s that sinister lag. It’s only weeks or months later that you notice. Your belt becomes less an accessory and more…
tirement. The mythical Promised Land where every day is a Saturday. No more punching the clock, no more staff meetings, no more pretending to be interested in Sharon’s photos from her third trip to Dollywood. Retirement is often presented like a montage from a pharmaceutical ad: biking through scenic parks with a face radiating pure joy, like you just swallowed a bottle of sunshine. And it can be like that. For a little while. Um, in the beginning, at least……
ger’s greatest trick is making you think you’re standing up for yourself, that you’re finally taking control. It tells you that your outburst is justified, that your righteous fury is not only warranted but essential. It whispers in your ear: “You’re not being unreasonable. You’re being assertive.” But you’re not. You’re a grown person screaming at a parking meter. You look like a constipated gorilla trying to pass a watermelon. People are crossing the street to avoid you. And let’s…
xiety is the modern age's favorite emotional sport. It's like carrying around a tiny, paranoid screenwriter in your head, constantly pitching you horror movie scenarios about your own life. Your brain is always preparing to fight a bear or run a marathon, except you're just trying to order a coffee. "Should I take this job? What if it leads to my ultimate undoing? Should I go on this date? What if they're a serial killer or, worse, someone who claps…
alth. You know, that elusive state of being where your insides are all sparkly. Unfortunately, these days every health tip should be met with the kind of skepticism usually reserved for UFO sightings. The suggestions we’re provided with range from “more alien than a David Bowie concept album” to "unintentionally hilarious." To get health tips online is to have your brain explode in a shower of absurdity, leaving you wondering if the human race is really the most intelligent species…
metimes life doesn't just hand you lemons -- it pelts you with them like you're in a citrus fruit dodgeball game. Yeah, we’re talking about when you have to deal with grief, like the death of a loved one or other serious tragedies. You're left with this bizarre, jagged-edged picture that sort of resembles your life, but not really. It's a process that’s as confusing as trying to read a book where every other page is from a different novel.…
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