Real life cheat code? Or perpetual lack of sleep mode?
I’m about to convert to a controversial sleeping algorithm. Here’s a little background, some observations, a few bad jokes and a pie chart.
I’m a shameless whore for the latest personal improvement innovation. If it promises to revolutionize my life with minimal effort, I’ve already hyped it, tried it, tossed it aside with a growing sense of disillusionment and taken to Facebook to complain about it in the span of a week or two. That’s not to say I regret tirelessly throwing myself at every trending lifehack—there’s a fine line between gimmick and ingenuity, at least it’s there in my Thesaurus, and many things that entered my world on a bandwagon have catalyzed lasting, positive changes in my life. My point is that good and bad, be they juice cleanses, functional fitness home workout DVDs (I don’t care what anyone says, Tony Horton is the man), standing desks built out of random Ikea bookshelves drilled and cobbled together with Gorilla Glue—the get-rich-quick schemes of this century’s personal development world—I know them well. And they all provide the same insight—that they’re tools, blueprints into which you install your contribution—effort. The application of hard and consistent work turns the easy promise of the lifehack into real, earned growth, the potential into the actual. They just don’t market that part.