Since I am committed to Improving My Perfections, it is probably not a surprise to you that I love Self-Help stuff.
Books, articles, TV shows. I want to learn the True Secret of Eternal Happiness, and I am sure someone must have found it, and would like to make money off of it. And I will give him some of mine (money, that is, not happiness).
And better yet, a lot of advice is FREE.
That’s wonderful because I don’t have to feel guilty when I don’t take it.
(And doesn’t it make you crazy when people ask your advice and then don’t take it? They’re called Ask-Holes.) (But not me, of course.)
The mecca of Self-Help articles is no longer late night TV infomercials. It is the internet. The internet is a veritable cornucopia of advice (I love that word – Cornucopia – and except for Thanksgiving, I almost never get a chance to use it).
For quite some time I thought that The Internet True Secret of Eternal Happiness had a lot to do with keeping your eyeshadow from creasing.
But then I found that I can get a lot of advice emails besides the ones Self.com.
And I found Huffpost Healthy Living.
I love The Huffington Post. Where else can you go for information on Syria’s chemical weapons and a video of a sloth hugging a cat? The latest Stonehenge theory and Gwyneth Paltrow’s fashion faux pas?
And Huffpost Healthy Living will send you frequent (meaning every thirty minutes) emails with all kinds of wonderful advices.
Even luckier, about 50% of these emails contain articles about reducing stress. Did you know that breathing reduces stress? (Yes, I thought you might.) Sleeping too. Huffpost believes in sleeping. I do too.
But now the bad news.
The other 50% of the articles tell me about all the things I am doing wrong. (I do sleep perfectly.)
For every stress-relieving email there is always a stress-inducing follow-up.
– The 8 germiest things in your kitchen (like a spatula)
– Ten things dirtier than a toilet (like a cell phone)
– The ugly truth about soup (like the sodium)
– Eight ways you’re messing up steak (like using a fork to turn it over)
Oh my God. I stuck a fork in my steak. And I ate soup. And I touched my cell phone. And my spatula has anthrax.
I am so stressed.
And if my anxiety isn’t high enough,
I got this email today:
“Seven French Toast Mistakes.”
Good thing that in less than one-half hour, I will get a stress-reduction email.