For those who fear change, you should be comforted to see that the new year has not made me any more prompt at updating the weekly features. And speaking of missing deadlines, this week's features begin with our top five list which consists of the top five ways to turn your laziness into deceptively profound New Year's resolutions. Simply tell your family, friends and co-workers when they ask what your resolutions are that you resolve to...
5. Not work so hard - Of course, co-workers who know you too well will simply roll their eyes at this, but it could work for those who don't realize what a sloth you are at the office.
4. Practice relaxation techniques - This will more than likely be interpreted as yoga or meditation of some kind, perhaps keeping your own zen garden or meticulously manicuring a bonsai tree. Little do they know it means more time in front of the television with a bag of potato chips in your lap.
3. Take others' criticism less seriously - Nothing like spinning self-affirmation into a method of letting legitimate concerns roll off your thick skin. Your boss says, "You are always late and need to start showing up on time," and you say, "He probably doesn't mean that." Your spouse says, "You smell terrible. Take a shower," and you think, "She's just had a bad day. I'm not going to let it get to me."
2. Find more time for self-reflection - Combine this with the previous resolution and you become a completely insulated, advice resistant bastion of mediocrity. It makes everyone think that you are making a commitment to self-improvement when you simply started keeping a mirror in your pocket or playing your video games in a darker room so that you can see yourself in the screen.
1. Simplify - While others picture you living a Walden-esque lifestyle, you are just planning to make things easier on yourself. Is work stressful? Do less of it. Don't like your mother-in-law? Stop talking to her. Cooking too complicated? Order pizza every night. Simple.
This week's cool-ass thing you will never own is a time machine. Yes, that has been a feature before, but it makes sense again. Whether you prefer an H.G. Wells contraption, a phone booth (of the Dr. Who or Bill & Ted variety) or a Delorean, you are just going to have to accept that the stuff you forgot to do is going to remain forgotten for the 2011 calendar year.
This week's sign you are a nerd is that the highlight of your New Year's Eve party was starting the countdown on your end of the world clock. Way to let your anti-social, subversive tendencies turn what should be a celebration of things to come and renewed hope into a macabre reminder of the fleeting nature of our lives.
This week's nemesis is the Mayans. Sure, considering the means at their disposal they did some amazing calculating and were looking to the stars and hypothesizing sooner than many ancient civilizations, but now, due to their lack of placing a phrase at the end of their calendar system like, "and so on," or a simple ... I have to listen to all the doomsday prophecies for the rest of the year. It reminds me of the whole Y2K scare when nothing happened either. I'll make anyone who believes the world will end on December 21st, 2012 a bet. If it doesn't end, you owe me a steak dinner on the 22nd. If it does, then I'll mow your lawn for a year. Deal?
This week's lesson learned is that allowing your kids to consume caffeine and sugar in order to stay up on New year's Eve can have catastrophic effects. Emotional meltdowns and barf are no way to usher in a new year.
This week's equation is simple:
You can calculate how much longer, in days, you will have to continue listening to Mayan calendar doomsday talk (T) by subtracting the number of days that have passed in 2012 (d) from 356.
Finally, this week's Star Wars quote is, "Someday you're gonna be wrong and I just hope I'm there to see it."