I’m an all or nothing kind of guy. All gas, no brakes. Or no gas, all brakes.

I either try to survive on a reckless mixture of caffeine, alcohol, and sleeping pills, or I treat my body like an Orthodox cathedral.

“Does this holy water have any antioxidants?” - me, when I’m healthy

I live my life with a destructively high level of oscillation. It’s either an entire packet of Oreos or no sweets. Crossfaded during the workday or employee of the month. Training for an ultramarathon or drunkenly binging New Zealand comedies on HBO for days on end.

When I’m in the “life rips, let’s f—ing goooooo” phase of my life, I wake up every morning before sunrise and swim/hike/run/paddleboard until I’ve sweated out all my sins and all the sins of my forefathers.

And if I don’t—if I hit that snooze button and don’t wake up by 4am, I’ll punish myself by being a miserable, grumpy little dickhead to my wife.

But 2023 will be different.

I want 2023 to be different. Instead of “exercising more” or “eating healthier” or “achieving every possible professional achievement ever,” my goal for 2023 is trying to find that sweet spot between emotionally flogging myself if I don’t complete a triathlon’s worth of physical activity by sunrise and drowning myself in a greasy pool of trans fats and chaos. There’s a middle ground somewhere, and my goal in 2023 is to find it.

four man with guitars and drum sticks — **Trans Fat Chaos**, *decent band name*.

“I want purpose but I don’t want a heart attack.”

I was watching a YouTube clip where comedian Neal Brennan said this to CBS Mornings correspondent Jamie Wax.

My first thought was: Sure, Neal Brennan is funnier than me, more accomplished, and a better writer… but is he a better lover?

My second thought was: God—I love CBS Sunday Mornings—this show fucking slaps.

Seriously—stop reading my stupid newsletter and go watch the CBS Sunday Mornings segment about the magic of hydrangeas or the losing-est high school basketball team in the state of Minnesota.

But my third thought was: I love that line. I want purpose but I don’t want a heart attack.

Finding that balance though—that’s the tricky part. Sleep too little, you die. Sleep too much, you die. Eat too little, you die. Eat too much… you get it.

I want to work hard and achieve my goals, but I also want to be happy and enjoy my life. I want to appreciate the present moment, but I also want make sure I’m not royally fucking over my future self.

In 2023, I’m not striving for perfection. I’m striving for mediocrity.

You could say that this year, my New Year’s resolution is to half-ass my life.

And I’m fucking jazzed up about it.

Some resources and links that have helped me

Missed my last Psychology Onions post? Read it here.

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