Skip to main content

Ten New Year's Peps

No Resolutions here people. I promised.

But some things I think that keeping in mind may pep up my 2008:

1. You Don't Have to Answer the Phone.
Just because someone calls you doesn't mean you have to be available at that moment. Voicemail anyone? My own grandmother actually refuses to get an answering machine because she doesn't even want the messages. She answers when she wants, and if not, "If it's important they'll call back."

2. Ditto to Email
It can wait 10 minutes. Even from the boss, client, daughter, wife, Prince, you get my point. In fact if we all waited 10 minutes, a lot of angry flames, would go up in, well, flames. A magazine publisher I knew answered e-mail twice a day. Twice a day. Didn't even open the program so he couldn't see the letters load in. Try it. Nice.

3. You're Going To Die
Okay, a bit of a downer. But think of this: Nothing really counts in the long run. All those extra hours working for more money, better job, bigger TV. All those Christmas days spent with great aunts gritting teeth. Not saying we should all be hedonistic, but as I make choices this year I am going to try and think about what will help for the journey, and not what will count in the end. In the end, there's just an obit. And I ain't going to be there to read it.

4. Ten Minutes of Law & Order is Better than Six Cookies
Or whatever your personal weakness is. Basically a few minutes of fun is better than calories you'll regret 10 minutes later.

5. Eat the Damn Cookie Anyway
Please. One isn't the problem.

6. It's Just As Easy To Think Positively as Negatively
If you're like me and believe that negative stress is actually some sort of totem against further bad luck, try just one positive thought a day. Think of it like 10 sit-ups, without the sweat and Lycra clothes.

7. Someone Else's Negativity is Their's
It's like the dog crap someone refused to pick up after their own dog. Are you going to reach down and get it? Hell no. Ditto with someone else's bad mood. Not your job to clean it up. Smile, and tell them you'll catch them later. And no "I'm sorry"s. You're not. They should be for sullying your space.

8. You Don't Have to Keep Grandma's Bed Set
You don't have to keep it just because it's old. Sure family history is important. But that can be kept through a cookie recipe. A vase works too. Or a hat. You don't have to inherit your great aunt's hips, or her walnut sideboard.

9. Next Time You're About to Say Yes, Say No
No, I can't join the PTA this semester. No I can't lead the Girl Scouts this year. No I can't bake for this week's fundraiser. All those No's mean more time for your Rabbit and you. And then when you say yes, it might be fun again to bake 288 chocolate chip cookies.

10. Unless it's your Rabbit
Yes, we can stay five more minutes. Yes, we can read one more book before bed. Yes, you can invite one more girl to your birthday party. Yes, in this case, is like a smile and a hug. And we sure can use more of those for 2008.


sarah said…
I love this post. I want to bookmark it and read it daily (except the stuff about the cookie--no cookies for me in '08. Well...maybe a few).
Mia said…
Thank you for a great post! You have really made a difference to me tonight. Here I was feeling sorry for myself, gobbing Ben & Jerry *low fat yogurt, but still a whole pot and really annoyed for it being low fat in the first place.*

Great post, *taking note*

Thank you!

Popular posts from this blog

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

Recommended & the Mahiki dance-off

My GFs and I went to Mahiki last night, great fun as usual but made me feel a bit old; it seems that Thursday night is the playground of the just-past-pubescent. Oh well. Good tunes though, so whatever.In between taking over the dancefloor - the youngsters may have youth on their side but frankly that shrinks to insignificance in the face of two decades of clubbing experience - one of my GFs and I got into a conversation about why so many people are full of bull.It appears that many people we come across are content to live their lives in a superficial way, skimming the surface of what life has to offer and equating the ownership of stuff (cars, houses, boats, jewelry, designer clothes) with happiness. They converse in terms of status, strut their possessions as a measure of their own self-worth, take themselves far too seriously, are quick to judge others, easily annoyed, complain a lot about very little and their worries seem to far outweigh their joys. Personally, I think all that…


Following on from the realisation that my lungs are filthy and if I don't give up the smokes soon I face a life of wheezing at best, off I trotted to see the charming Dr T.

Dr T, who's charming by virtue of the fact that he's less jaded than the other doctors in the surgery (in other words, he treats patients as if they're human beings with a right to NHS services rather than annoying fraudsters trying to gain sympathy for imaginary illnesses) promptly put me on potentially habit-forming drugs to get me off the evil weed. Something doesn't feel quite right about this but since I'm so pathetically grateful to have a doctor who's willing to give me more than two seconds of his precious time, I have acquiesced to his demands.

Anyway, this wonder drug is called Champix and promises to have me merrily chucking my smokes in the bin in no time. Or it will if I can get past the possible side effects, the highlights being abnormal dreams, nausea, flatulence, snoring, …