Over the summer of 2003, which ranks overall as the third-worst summer of my life, there was a lone, shining bright spot: Kim, a wine-guzzling cougar who doubled as my Biopsychology professor and moonlighted as a regular bar patron at my tavern.
The text of choice for her class: a book called “Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers,” an entertaining script that analyzed in humorous yet comprehensive clarity the relationship between stress, inflammation and mental health. Continue reading
It’s January 3, which by now means over 65% of you are seriously neglecting your New Year’s Resolutions. Slackers.
I’ve never been much for goal-setting. Probably how I originally went to college for Broadcasting, ended up with a Psychology degree (after attending four different schools!), and had a career that’s careened from telemarketing to information technology to operations management to publishing to advertising. I’ve started two companies that have failed. I live paycheck-to-paycheck. I ran my last 5K about as fast as most people can walk one, but I’ve also finished three half-marathons and about a dozen other races that stretch longer than 10K.
New Year’s Resolutions? I don’t even know what I’m going to do tomorrow. For breakfast. I’m as consistent as a toddler at an archery range.
But it is 2013, and I’m done not resolving, because I’m 30 years old, and my lungs are pretty much a mess and my parents are wondering when I’m going to have grandkids and I’m pretty sure all those deep-seeded dreams I entertained when I was youthful and foolish have been forgotten in a haze of cynicism and delirium.
But I’ve got a spare 20 minutes, and here’s what I’m going to set out to do this year. Continue reading
Endless Parade 