Change ‘and’ to ‘or’.

I sent this post over from my retiredguys.net blog.

Derek Sivers…smart guy. Helpful, down-to-earth insights. Shared freely right here in excerpts from his book, Hell Yeah or No–what’s worth doing.

I ran across this one today: Procrastination hack: change “and” to “or”

He saw that he was applying too many ‘musts’ to his list before making time to exercise. Result: Not enough fitness sessions. ‘And’ to ‘or’ made all the difference.

As retired guys, it seems like a good idea to set aside too many conditions and cut ourselves a little slack.

Give it a try.


Check out my insanely overpriced

The Incomplete Book of Retirement Wisdom

Stop the heresy!

Reminded myself today of the manic pace of Twitter, chockful of repetition [which I can live with, as long as I have the license to roll my eyes].
But there’s also lethal advice posing as healthy lifestyle choices.
Take note…
— “You don’t need coffee, drink water.” (I’m an ardent follower of my good friend’s dad mantra: “Hey, water just rusts my pipes.”)
— “You don’t need chocolate & sweets–eat fruit.” (Unless that fruit is nestled inside puff pastry, that whack-job needs to be rooted out and summarily dismissed to a low-bandwidth principality..)
So, retired folks, be wary. Stay vigilant. The Internet is crawling with loons like this.
Nap well, my friends.

Cuppa joe? Bald no mo’.

Now just calm down everybody. I’m not trying to sell anything here. Unless, of course–okay, never mind.
***
Having just learned why deer don’t eat daffodils, I moved on to uses for stale coffee beans. (Not at all related, but that’s the thing, retired guys, why waste time on linear thinking?)
Son of a gun if I didn’t run across some life-changing tips…
Coffee Affection tells me to use it on my scalp to stimulate hair growth and improve its texture.
I can see it now (assuming anyone would be seen in public with me)…
Desperate friend in need of social contact: Oooh! I’m smelling some nice Italian Roast.
Me (tilting my head toward him): Yep, double-duty! Great with my morning scone and an hour later, the dregs were in my scalp.
Desperate friend (flicking soggy grounds off my shoulder): You are supposed to rinse’em out, right?
Me: Eventually. But the ski cap contains it pretty well…Hey, where you going?
***