Heading into a new decade, here are the self-help books I wish they’d write
Congratulations to us! We turned that calendar page and are zooming in on the middle of the first month of a new year and a new decade. We’re also in the midst of the latest generation (often abbreviated as Gen Z, which generally speaking is said to run from 1996-7 to the present).
Mind-blowing, isn’t it?
As is the case when every new year begins, we’ve been able to reboot, rethink, redo. Or, if we were already on the right track, to keep on keepin’ on. Or not.
It’s also a time to look back at the things that really mattered to you in the past 10 years, and at the things you thought were going to be monumentally important but really weren’t.
Health, happiness, kindness, friendship, family, faith and hope for the future … those are the diamonds of life.
How about that new job, new romance, new adventure? How’s that working out for you? Still going strong? I hope so.
What about that thing, whatever it was, the one you wanted so badly to buy or do, but just couldn’t afford or justify? Do you still care? Do you even remember what it was?
And how about new habits made and old ones ditched?
Speaking of which, have you given up yet on your annual flurry of self-help-itis in the lottery of life, otherwise known as New Year’s resolutions?
I took the easy way out this year. Again. I didn’t make any promises to reform. That way I don’t disappoint myself. Again.
But sometimes, I really would love to have a helping hand, some guidance toward a better life with fewer calories, bills, tragedies and funny-bone bumps.
Self-help 101
Of course, there are a gazillion self-help books out there, volumes that intend to make me stronger, smarter, thinner, richer, happier.
How about taller and younger? Those sound good, too.
I’ve got a bunch of those books on my shelf, but so far, they haven’t been especially helpful. Gee, I bought the books and brought them home. Isn’t that enough? I shouldn’t have to read each book (most of them are deadly dull) and then actually do what it tells me to do, should I?
Nice try, Kathe. Silly, but nice.
Maybe those authors are just on the wrong track for me. Maybe I need different topics.
Here are some self-help books I wish they’d write:
“Fitbit Fever,” how to make every step you take the Fitbit equivalent of a mile.
“How to Train Your Groceries, Dishes and Laundry to Put Themselves Away!”
“Menu Makeover: 10 New Proteins, 12 New Vegetables and Instant Acceptance of Them By The People I Feed”
“Meditation Mantras While Teaching a Teen to Drive”
“Workplace Magic Wand” — just wave the book at the problem and turn a cranky boss into a pussycat, or a snarky coworker into a charmer.
“Clock Spandex,” stretching the day so I can accomplish more, with its sequel, “Energy Spandex,” so I’ll have enough oomph to do all that.
“Chore Converter,” a Marie Kondo-type system of modifying a drudge task into something that’s fun-fun-fun, so simply doing it brings us pure joy. “Clean the oven? Oh, boy, I can’t wait! Just let me at it!”
“I Think, Therefore I Am,” with the subheads, “I Thought About My Exercises, So Now I’m Super Fit” or “I Think I’ve Consumed Fewer Calories Than I Really Have, So I’m Instantly Skinnier.”
“Mental Fences,” avoidance training that makes it impossible for me to stick my verbal foot in my mouth again.
Or …. how about these rewrites of classics?
“How to Win ‘Words with Friends’ and Influence ‘People’ Magazine”
“The Power of Positive Winking,” or how to flirt without getting arrested.
The heck with relocating philosophical cheddar and Havarti: How about the senior’s version, “Who Moved My Keys?”
“The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Buck”
“The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Procrastinators”
No? Too bad. I figured some of those could be best sellers.
What’s next?
So, now we head into the depths of 2020, which by its very name should give us perfect insight into the year ahead, instead of the somewhat myopic view some of us have had in the recent past.
Good luck with that.
Happy, happy, y’all. Here we go….
