Perfection…Tomorrow…or the Next Day

I wonder if it is possible for me to go on an all-out sprint in everything that I should be doing: reading, writing, studying, eating well, working out, playing music, and any other positive activity you can think of, while at the same time avoiding everything the least bit harmful. It sounds easy until you actually think about it. Try to go an entire day without wasting any time. I don’t think that I need to spell out what constitutes wasting time. Everyone has their own definition of what this means. If reading this isn’t a waste of time to you then I think you need to take a good, long look at yourself.

I want to multi-task like there is no tomorrow, like Michael Douglas in Wall Street. I want to run on a treadmill while I talk on the phone and destroy people’s lives by buying out companies and firing all of the workers. They will all thank me later when they find jobs at Wal-Mart. I want to step off the treadmill and have an assistant hand me an herbal tea and a paint brush. I sip the tea while I finish a water color of the Champs-Elysées that I can see from my office or living room or wherever the hell rich and powerful go-getters do their work these days.

I finish the painting and send it off to auction at the Louvre. I sit down immediately to practice piano for an hour under the tutelage of a harsh, yet sexy music teacher who is probably German guessing from her accent. Her clothes give no hint as to her nationality because all she’s wearing is something off the sale rack from Victoria’s Secret. Combining sex with a music lesson is just another clever multi-tasking thing rich people do.

Gordon Gecko said in Wall Street that lunch is for wimps, which is a bit of a problem for me because I really like lunch, even more than breakfast—unless we’re having well-cooked bacon for breakfast. Is dinner just for wimps? If it is, I can see a serious problem on the horizon. Instead of lunch my personal assistant/ life coach hands me a vitamin/protein shake. I take a sip as I sit down at my computer to write a chapter of the brilliant novel I am finishing.

Yuch! Are you fucking kidding me? This thing tastes like shit. Good thing I have a personal assistant/ life coach/ nutritionist on hand to clean this green slop off of my computer monitor. I try to order in a meatball sub from the corner place and an alarm goes off. My personal assistant/ life coach/ nutritionist/ crisis counselor rushes in and explains to me that a meatball sub doesn’t fit into the make-up of the new me. He tries to hand me another vitamin shake and I knock it out of his hand.

I decide to fire my personal assistant and hire a new one who isn’t such a “yes man.” I don’t know why I didn’t just hire a beautiful woman for this job in the first place. I have a meeting to go to so I head for the limo with my new lovely assistant behind me. “Sorry, driver. Can you please raise the divider? We have some important matters to discuss.” The meeting is only two blocks away but multi-tasking is a full-time job with me these days. What am I supposed to do, waste all that time listening to light jazz on the radio?

You are probably going to ask me when will I have enough money and power. Charlie Sheen's character asked me the same thing in Wall Street "How many boats can you ski behind?" That's kind of a no-brainer and I'll answer it as I finish this pilates class while I am being tutored in Mandarin Chinese. You just look up in the Guinness Book of World Records the record for most boats skied behind and add one more boat. Do I have to explain everything to you?

This new me is pretty exciting, huh?

I’m going to start immediately. It is only nine in the morning and I have already fucked up today by wasting an hour and a half playing backjack online, not to mention the $25 I dropped. I guess I’ll begin tomorrow, tomorrow or the day after. I suppose that I should just wait until next Monday to begin this crash course in becoming the truest, most distilled essence of myself just so that I start with a new week. However, if I wait until Monday it will already be the sixth of August. It would be nice to begin with a new month. Let me just take a minute to look through the calendar. I have to go online to access my calendar and since I’m already there I may as well check out some of those kooky videos on Youtube.

An hour later I discover that October of this year begins on a Monday so that would be a perfect time to begin my new Personal Power lifestyle. This gives me two full months before I begin getting perfect. I don’t know what I should do during these two months. I could start moving in the general direction of this idealized model of what my new life will be. That would probably make things easier when I finally do begin to do all of the things that I should be doing every day and every minute of every day. Just thinking about the new me gives me a raging hard-on for myself. I suppose I had better start right now if I am really going to pull this off come October 1. I’m going to hit the floor this second and do a few push-ups.

“Uno, dos…” Ugh, I’m in worse shape than I thought. I can just reach the remote control from where I lay prostrate and gasping for air here on the living room floor. As I watch a couple of talk shows I decide that it’s probably better for me just to wait until D-Day and start all of this new Power Me stuff all at once. It’s like jumping into a cold swimming pool. Instead of going in a little at a time it’s best just to dive in all at once—or go find a heated pool.

When I’m finished with making myself into a Nietzsche-esque superman I’ll write a self-help book so all of you lose-oids can see how I did it. Don’t kid yourself into thinking that you can do it too because we all know that self-help books are total horse shit and have never done a thing for any living soul—except those on the right (cha-ching) side of the sales transaction.

You are probably asking yourself if I will have time for you when my new Master of the Universe life begins. Sure I will. I have an hour set aside every other Wednesday for charity-volunteer work. I’ll bring you some new mittens. If my schedule is too backed up to come by I’ll just air drop a load of mittens over your entire neighborhood. Gotta go.