Though I am, of course, supposed to be working now, diligently preparing manuscripts for publication and relearning so much medicine that I have spent the better part of a decade forgetting, the reality of the situation is different. The reality of the situation is that my time is split pretty evenly between trying to watch everything my Tivo records and reorganizing my digital music collection. Weirdly enough, I am failing in both of these ventures. Why? Discipline.
My days are without structure right now and I have been so far unsuccessful at imposing any. In fairness to my batting average here, it would be overstating the case to say that I have made any effort to do so. It would be more precise to say that I have been unsuccessful at motivating towards formulating a plan for structure.
And then, like a stroke of lighning, the solution hit me. It’s hard to adequately convey the sense of sarcasm I am hoping to imply here. The Abs Diet. One form of discipline is as good as the next. If I can force myself to adhere to an arbitrary diet, perhaps I can impell myself to follow a work routine. Perhaps I can even motivate myself to write more (I’ve been a piss-poor scribner lately). So, there it is: The Abs Diet, my 6 week recipe for rock hard, washboard abs and daily work success.
Plan of action, Part 1: Read the book. I purchased the book a couple of years ago, when it first came out, at Bed Bath and Beyond. I know, I know, who buys books at Bed Bath and Beyond. Well, I was feeling fat, and there it was, and in a moment of weakness I bought it, with it’s ugly orange book jacket that says “look at me, I’m one of those shmucks who thinks they can change their life with a self help book.” The problem is, like all of weight-loss, exercise-plan books, this one feels the need to waste the first half of the book with explanations about why it is the best plan, and the only one that will work, and here’s a testamonial for Johnny Porkenbeans about how he lost 75 pounds of belly fat (results not typical) and it’s totally changed his life. As a discerning reader, it’s really hard to wade through all that crap, and yet, as an obsessive compulsive pedant, I can’t stand the thought that I miss miss some crucial detail if I skip past those chapters. So, I fought with the first half of the book. And lost.
But now… now is different. Because now I have a plan.