A wellness-humorist. Yeah, that's a thing. All thoughts, words, pictures, and diseases are my own.
I’M STANDING IN THE DUGOUT, NEXT TO THE WATER COOLER. I’M TRYING VERY HARD TO BLEND IN. Don’t make eye contact. Look down. He doesn’t see you. He (coach) is walking in my direction. I’m terrified. He’s going to put me in the game as a defensive replacement and I’m going to have warm up
“Oh God,” Nancy pouted into the phone, “you’re not going to Asia again, are you?” I had just mentioned to my mother (Nancy), a book I recently finished, The Road to Character. The book, written by author David Brooks, examines the different measures of success, eventually working to address what is real and what is
There are few instances when the spoken word has really moved me to action. There have probably been even fewer when I was moved to a perspective change. I’ve met motivation before, sure, and inspiration isn’t hard to find—any IG wellness account or yoga “instructor” in a downward dog will do that—but coming across content
Jesus, the guy gets one tattoo and now he’s breaking down classic psychology. Blow me. … I know. You’re right in thinking that. You’re a dick, but you’re right. Who cares. “Flow” is a book about optimal experience. The book encapsulates everything relevant and needed to achieve that optimal experience whereas the word itself is
A pained resignation, audible as a sigh, was all I got. Nancy was over it. When my mom found out about my tattoo—pretty substantially placed on the right arm and shoulder—I anticipated some fireworks. I anticipated them, and, really, kind of wanted them. But I didn’t get any. My name wasn’t removed from any will
