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You know, I've been thinking a lot about my New Year's resolutions lately. You know the ones we make every year with the best intentions? Well, this year, I decided to be brutally honest with myself. I looked in the mirror and said, "You, my friend, are pathologically procrastinating." I mean, I take procrastination to a whole new level. I once procrastinated on procrastinating. I set a reminder to do it later, but guess what? I forgot to check my reminders. That's next-level laziness, folks.
I tried to Google ways to overcome procrastination, and I ended up watching a documentary about sloths. It's like my computer knew me better than I know myself. It said, "You don't need productivity tips; you need a nap."
I'm so good at procrastination; I could win a gold medal if it were an Olympic sport. They'd have to create a new event just for me: "The 100-Meter Scroll-and-Stall." I'd be standing on the podium, but instead of the national anthem, they'd play the Jeopardy theme because, let's be honest, that's my anthem.
I even bought a planner to organize my life, but it turns out I just use it to plan when I'll start planning. It's a never-ending cycle of scheduling my own failure.
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I've come to realize that I might be a bit pathological when it comes to GPS. I mean, back in the day, we used to use maps, and now we have this voice in our phones telling us where to go. I call her "Siri, the Judgmental Navigator." I don't trust myself anymore without GPS. I tried going somewhere without it, and I ended up in Narnia. The worst part? I didn't even question it until I saw a talking lion.
I rely on GPS so much that if it told me to drive off a cliff, I'd probably ask Siri if it's a shortcut. "Siri, is this the scenic route, or are you just trying to kill me?"
And let's talk about those GPS recalculations. You miss one turn, and suddenly it's like you've committed a heinous crime. It's not just recalculating; it's recalibrating my entire life choices. "In 500 feet, make a legal U-turn, and maybe reevaluate your life while you're at it."
I think my GPS is judging me. I missed a turn, and it said, "Recalculating route. You really need to pay attention." I felt like I disappointed my phone. "I'm sorry, Siri; I'll try to be a better driver.
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So, I've come to the realization that I might have a pathological relationship with my phone. I mean, I can't be the only one who takes their phone to the bathroom like it's my bathroom buddy. It's like, "Sorry, toothbrush, but I've got social media to catch up on." I recently discovered that my phone has a weekly screen time report. It's basically my phone saying, "Hey, buddy, maybe you should consider getting a life." I looked at the report, and it said, "You spent 20 hours on social media this week." I thought, "That's it? I have room for improvement."
My phone knows more about me than my therapist. It knows what I eat, where I go, who my friends are, and it even knows my deepest, darkest secrets—like the fact that I watch cat videos at 2 AM.
And don't get me started on those social media algorithms. They know me better than I know myself. They're like, "Oh, you liked a picture of a cute dog? Here's 100 more pictures of cute dogs, and by the way, here's an ad for a dog spa.
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Let's talk about snacks. I have a pathological relationship with snacks. You know you have a problem when you can recite the entire snack aisle at the grocery store from memory. It's like my own personal snack GPS. I tried going on a diet once, and my snacks staged a revolt in the pantry. I opened the door, and they all jumped out, shouting, "You can't get rid of us that easily!" I was outnumbered and outsnacked.
My friends try to give me diet advice, and I appreciate it, but they don't get it. They say, "Just eat one chip." One chip? That's like telling a vampire to have just one drop of blood. It's not happening.
I have this amazing talent for turning any healthy snack into something unhealthy. I once turned a salad into a sandwich by putting it between two slices of pizza. I call it the "vegetarian compromise."
I tried eating carrots once, you know, for the whole healthy snacking thing. But I felt guilty, so I dipped them in chocolate. I call it "balanced eating" because, technically, I'm still eating vegetables, right?
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