Writer Ryan Maddigan satirically advises readers how to spend a perfectly normal Tuesday that happens to be Nov. 5.
Writer Ryan Maddigan satirically advises readers how to spend a perfectly normal Tuesday that happens to be Nov. 5.
People are often taken aback when they converse with me. They think to themselves, “How is this guy so well-informed?” “He’s so interesting — how can I be more like him?” “Did he just say his favorite sport was squash?”
I relish being the smartest man in the room. But, with a little guidance from yours truly, others may be able to come close to my level of intelligence. Hopefully by providing my daily routine on a random Tuesday, I can bestow a few golden nuggets of how to be confident, interesting and simply the best.
I started Nov. 5, a day chosen for its mundanity, by doing what all mere mortals do — wake up. I don’t yawn. I don’t wipe my eyes. I don’t start to stretch. I take control of my biological clock everyday. 7:30 a.m. is my alarm. I don’t know anyone who gets up this early for fun, except for my fellow squashers, of course.
Once I get out of bed, the next part of my daily routine is a YouTube video. Not just any video — no Roblox “Let’s Play” or tutorials on how to get a date with Chat GPT. I unroll my yoga mat, put on my favorite meditation ambience, and ask myself the simple question, “What would Patrick Bateman do?”
Though I’ve never read “American Psycho,” I’ve seen the first 30 minutes of the movie.
Watching movies instead of reading books is one of the simple shortcuts you can take to become informed. Surface-level knowledge of many subjects bolsters conversational capital to expel in particularly boring conversations. On a side note, wouldn’t you think Patrick Bateman would make a killer squash partner with that physique?
When I leave my abode, I have goals in mind. A mission is crucial if you want to accomplish anything in life.
This Nov. 5 was unusual, though, and it wasn’t just the unseasonably warm weather. It wasn’t long before I discovered the source of the hooplah — people waiting in big, long lines only to enter a curtained off booth for a few minutes at a time. I couldn’t make sense of it.
What was this nonsensical event and why wasn’t anyone thinking for themselves? My friends, lines are for suckers and social trends are for sheep.
For the sake of time and to prevent sharing any classified trade secrets, I’ll skip past my day at work. All I’ll say is I’ve found a successful niche in making motivational content on LinkedIn. I love my job because it provides a necessary service to millions around the world.
When you have a message, you can’t let it fester in your head — you need to share it. Shove it down their throats if you need to. If the message is a squash ball, you’re the racket.
I’m so beholden to this ideology I haven’t read a newspaper in over eight years. Why consider someone else’s agenda when mine is the only one I care about?
After I eat my dinner — a full rotisserie chicken pulled apart with my hands to hone my fine motor skills — the image of those long lines pervades the inside of my eyelids as I drift off to sleep. Chicago is a great place, but seeing how many people waited in line for some fad frightens me.
To me, those lines are pushing our very social fabric to the last thread — that’s why it’s so important to spread these tips, so others can escape the hive mind of modern society.
If life is a squash court, noble readers, ask yourself this series of questions. Am I going to deliver a game-winning kill shot by making myself worthy of anything? Or will I be called for a foot fault by mindlessly following social fads and joining the pointless lines on Nov. 5?
The choice is yours, but I think you know which one is right.