QUADRUPLE Your Efficiency, Bro!

Four Ways to Increase your Efficiency and Stop Making Inappropriate References to TV Shows (But mostly the first one, really)
Up until now, most of my posts have been ardently devoted to wasting time, whether through procrastination or relaxation- it wholly depends on which posts you read. If you’ve read all them, then the Lordy bless your little soul, sirrah! These tips will help you get to college faster, because you'll be sleeping more and working less- an ideal deal, to be sure! Read on, adventurer, and behold the secrets of the cave of, uh, time-saving secrets. (There was no better way to say that…)

1. Go ColdTurkey!

Defying initial expectiations, ColdTurkey is not your regional football team mascot- because first off a turkey isn’t threatening, and how would a turkey mascot be "cold?" Paper mache ice cubes taped to its butt? Anyway, ColdTurkey denotes a computer program which blocks selected websites for a certain period of time. If you don’t have enough discipline to block websites which slurp up your time like you do a moldy month-old slurpee (with gusto and a smile!),then you never stood a chance. All you need to do is install a program and tell it to destroy your imaginary social life by blocking websites. So scram, bum! Go and ColdTurkey your evil, time-slurping websites with the power of ice-cold turkey butt! NOW. Destroy procrastination with the bowling ball of coldturkey! Wait...

Turkey bowling: actually a thing?

2. Change your HomePage

If you walked home one day and found out the entrance to your homely abode was through a walk-in refrigerator, imagine how cool it would be! (pun intended, unfortunately) For those of you who live inside restaurant walk-in refrigerators, just imagine returning home normally and then chastise yourself for making me add this inconvenient scenario addendum. But refrigerator. Enough of us mindlessly amble over to the refrigerator every few minutes to see whether new food has magically appeared and if the soda is cold enough yet, I mean seriously it’s been in there for at least two minutes and should already be cold. But on the internets, you have a homepage. That’s your entrance to the internet. If your homepage is yahoo, you’ll end up seeing those retarded articles about some completely trivial topic no one really ever cared about. “Madonna’s 5 craziest shoe decals!” or “Three Things about Liechtenstein You Never Knew!” Stop right there, buster. Don’t even look at that article. I see you eyeing it like a skinny kid eyes an entire baker's dozen of donuts (it's the skinny kids you gotta look out for with donuts)! Grab your webhammer (internet sledgehammer) and slam a new wall of a homepage into your figurative house. Voila! Say goodbye, Yahoo! articles about 'Hottest Cranberry Sauces This Season'!

Lemme hear a 'SPLAT'!.... gross.

3. Set a Sleep Clock

Most of us set alarm clocks to wake up. Those who don’t probably just live under bridges and wake up when they're too hungry to sleep. But as effective as waking up earlier is going to sleep earlier. Really, though, this is a no-nonsense approach. It requires serious discipline, which presents a problem to 99.99% of students (a conservative estimate, mind you). Chances are, just to wake up in the morning, you set three alarms, and those only begin to wake you up. After three different housemaids try to wake you up and your mother pours orange juice on your face, you begin to budge. This is the opposite- all of those people throwing stuff at you, except to go to sleep. Knowing that you need to get a bed a certain time will do several things, but the best two are: making you perform faster to meet your sleep deadline and, pending the success of step one, sleeping longer. That’s more efficient than the time I outsourced my homework to India! Haha, who am I kidding, that happens every night. 

Pictured: living hell

4. LEAVE. Just leave, and don’t come back… well, until later, that is.

After a certain number of hours transfixed by the zombifying, unceasing glow of a computer screen, your work output increases by a function of 1/log(hours)*% work complete/1, to put it into terms no one can understand because that’s not a real function. But after about two or so hours in front of the computer, the rate of your productivity must have fallen from writing three words of your essay every minute to accidentally deleting your system.exe twice and tweeting 8.4 times every 2.4 minutes, shattering several Guiness World Records… no? Just me? Hm, okay. Anyways, turns out that your facebook, twitter, and tumblr turn into a social media refrigerator: you open it over and over expecting something exciting and new (Whoooo!), but instead, all you get is leftovers and recycled junk (booo…). The solution is to leave the house- go for a bike ride, go hang out, go mutter to yourself and knock over pedestrians while wearing nothing but stockings, go walk your dog or sleep on your front porch or start an international smuggling ring. Anything, really, as long as it gets you away from your computer.  And if you’re fortunate, you might just come back and find something new in the refrigerator… who am I kidding, you’ll eat that month-old spinach pie anyway, even without being truly hungry.

After the first bite, your face will stay like that forever.

The Trifecta of Relaxation

Depending on the where you’re headin’ to, you’ll either encounter a serious drinking problem with a college nearby or a series of buildings where science zombies congregate. Sure, a few options exist few and far between those two extremes, but that’s exactly what they are- few and far in between. Either way, zombies and alco… college students need to figure out how to relax from the tedious, stress inducing tasks related to binge drinking, memorizing encyclopedias of formulas, and lounging on the beach. So sit down, lean back, and take a sip of that pina colada while I fill you in on the methodology behind chilling out- no gimmicks. Alright, maybe a few. But they’re totally rad, dude. Check it out!

The Noble Resting Place: Hammocks

Say what you will, the key to relaxing is location and method. By far, the most ideal method of relaxing remains hammocking, an activity which embodies all notions deemed noble, restful, and delightful by all humans.  First off, you need a hammock. A hammock can be hung anywhere: in the rafters of a moldy barn, above the mouth of a raging volcano, between the bars of street signs, and of course the epitome of relaxation: between two sun scorched palm trees, inches away from clear blue oceans. Second, you need a hammockupation- a combination of hammocking and occupation; any recreational activity possible. Want to listen to voodoo chants? Sure. Enjoy sipping strawberry molasses flavored apple juice? Um, fine? Sit back and stare at the sky while not thinking… at all? (this option only available for men, sorry women.) With a hammock and hammockupation, you’re well on your way to relaxation nirvana and a body so relaxed hippies got nothin’ on ya.

"At least a hammock, yah?.."

The Joyful Philosophy: Daily

One of the main reasons people get their knickers in a twist and have other terrible things happen to their undergarments is a perpetual cycle of worrying. When Monday begins, they fret about Tuesday. Tuesday, fret about Wednesday. Wednesday, they’re dead; murdered by their own concern. It happens, people. Beware. The Bible even tackles this topic, telling us to live one day at a time relying on God. That’s right, Christians should be practicing a doctrine of divine YOLO. But really, what does worrying do? A significant difference splits apathy and competence. Without worrying, you can do everything normally, fairly, adequately. Worrying, you can poop your pants, get gray hair at 20, and cry into your pillow, which takes so much abuse you had to glue a bunch of Shamwows into a ad hoc pillow so as not to flood your room every night. Seriously, spend your time wisely and stop worrying. Another step towards relaxation nirvana.

This is what google images thinks relaxation nirvana is...

The Gentlemen’s Perspective: Gratitude

School bugs me, I’ll be the first to admit it. But it’s always a matter of perspective. If there’s one thing that the Mexican Police Chief from that one episode of Monk taught me, it’s that “It’s all about de drugs.” While that may prove true south of the border, a hammockitude requires an open, breezy, welcoming mind, as warm as Pacific shores and as joyful as a cluster of chocolate-producing palm trees. But hammockitude. The Mexican Police Chief things the world revolves around drugs. Normal people have nary a clue what the world revolves around, but I digress. Lying there in a gently swaying hammock, the fuzzy breeze tickling your skin and retiring sun comforting your mind, reexamine your perspective. Do you feel entitled to anything you have? Get over it. Get over yourself. You don’t deserve a hammock, the breeze, or the sun. Nope, in this revolutionary perspective, ya little ingrate, nothing belongs to you. That chocolate bar you found? Be thankful, even though it was sandy and probably had possum poop on it. That textbook for chemistry class? Be thankful you can one day figure out why your toes smell so terrible, though that might just be personal hygiene. Be thankful you have toes! Be thankful hygiene is a thing, even though you’re clearly unfamiliar with it. Point is, being thankful mitigates the negative and makes everything look better. I mean, it is better. While every single Asian child is simultaneously smarter, more talented, and better-looking than you, at least you’re parents don’t bludgeon you with laptops and abacuses to make you even smarter… do they? Because that’s horrible. I mean, be thankful you have parents, ingrate.

I thought combining "grateful" and "attitude" would make a new word "gratitude," but that's already a word. Nearly as bad as the time I took out my cellphone to call my cellphone."

 

Now, much of this information might strike the average human as odd. Well, you strike the average human as repulsive and off-putting, so shut up. I’m grateful I have fingers to type that at you. See how practical this is?

‘But the rest isn’t practical,’ you whine. ‘ I don’t have chocolate coconut trees and breezes and Pacific beaches, waaaa.’ Yeah, whatever. Excuses. When worse comes to worse and the, uh, hammock hits the… fram…sock… All you need is a hammock. Even a bed will do fine. Man up, college will be over soon, unless you’re a med student, in which case, forget everything you just read because school ends for people like you at the age of, hmm, 50? And that’s if you get lucky and the Medical gods deem you fit of wielding the snake-staff that heals all and knows all… but my knowledge of the medical field and practice is limited, except that the human body needs two substances to work: duct tape and aloe vera. Try it. Drink aloe vera for a month. See how swell you feel. Be thankful you have aloe vera.

*Disclaimer: Drinking aloe vera in large quantities may not be a brilliant idea.

It changes weather patterns, according to lunarists. That's why!  Look at all those coldfronts! Stop drinking it!

School Clubs: An Exercise in French Bureaucracy

The door stands open before you. With a long, heavy-hearted sigh you cross the threshold, and the effects are immediate. In an attempt to protect itself, the brain shuts down all thinking functions and your eyes glaze over to prevent the overflow of senseless occipital information. Welcome to a generic school club meeting, hell to thinkers and doers alike. In fact, you have stumbled into the only aboveground circle of hell; one which that bastard Alighieri never warned us about, and one you must conquer on the way to college: clubs.

"I apologize, but this rock drew my attention. Warnings are so mainstream."

The Club

Let’s distinguish right off the bat my nefarious intentions: to mock and lampoon every single school club that ever existed and currently exists. This will be achieved with a vague, easily convicted “straw” club- one which commits most imaginable lame school club violations (a comprehensive list of these exists).  The purpose of this generic club remains amorphous: at one point, someone wrote up a mission statement purely by accident or as a gag, and it was adopted. Since then, someone once took up an initiative to rewrite it (2/3 vote required to approve it, nonconsent counts as an affirmative vote… Unanimously passed) and rechristened it as the Club Constitution! But, a week later, they lost it and forgot about it. The formation of the club advented after a poor judgement call: that boring kid had a lot of free time and/or thought someone else likes Manchurain flower power anime. (They don’t.)

Imagine this, but Manchurian. And anime.

The Officers

Since a minority of the majority of the students in your school know your exist, and everyone else stares at you dumbfounded when you mention it (this is why that weird kid Dale is your only friend. Who names their son Dale, anyway?) But this widespread dearth of knowledge about your club results in a minimal nucleus of the club. Your officers, much like the French Army, were pulled out of the nearest byway and ceremonially inducted. They’re still not sure what’s going on, compounded by the fact that they can’t speak English. The club officers are disorganized, misinformed, and generally lost. The information for meetings (hosted once a month) spreads like burning oil on top of water: haphazardly, randomly, and somehow you’ll burn your hand off… trust me, it happens. In movies, ragtag bunches of losers coming together show off their cuteness and handiness together. For your club, the reality remains much harsher: a complete disaster. It’s worse than a train wreck because you have to look away.

Still more clear than the difference between code yellow and code orange.

The Meetings

Rewind to the first few sentences of the intro: eyes glazing over, fly open (you didn’t notice it all day, haha, loser) and brain malfunctioning like it always does. Everyone, or all three people present,  sit down at a single table, marooned in a forlorn sea of dusty tables and, antique chairs, and grimy instruments. Who gave you the key to the basement’s dungeon’s storage closet, anyway? The illy dresses officers give their reports: the plantain sale generated twelve ducats, emails were sent to the Albanian administration, and someone else couldn’t find their shoes this morning. Where’d that fizzled dud of a president go, anyway? After the perfunctory reports, everyone generally grumbles and complains about how everything could be better. “We didn’t have any lira to refund ducats.” “C’mon guys, I know one of you stole my shoes.” “Ou suis-je? Comment est-que je me trouve la?... Messieurs?” “If only he wasn’t French…”

Just standard procedure at our meetings. Move along.

The Moderator

In this particular school, every club requires a moderator. Since not very many educators seem interested in Manchurian Flower-Power Anime (they’re missing out) , the bottom of the barrel was the only place to go. This can go either way: in movies, the quirky teachers and/or janitors end up being super cool and teaching everyone to kick butt (We’re looking at you, Karate Kid). In the real world, quirky teachers and janitors are washout pedophiles and failed gold prospectors who fell off waterfalls. They’re the last chapter of Indiana Jones incarnate. When this moderator bothers coming to the club, he either gets lost or walks in right after  you managed to put that fire out. Who knew that Purell-soaked clothing was flammable?... or inflammable. Either way, Petey probably got rid of any microbes and bacteria stupid enough to live on his (charred) skin. 

"Fire? That looks like fun. Let me try."

Why are you in this club? And why is Manchurian Flower-Power Anime a thing? Do this many varieties of anime truly exist? I’ll be back later. I need to find out what happens to Gyoo-kaiy-sankuro-jojojojoma as he soars through the valley of dandelion crystals.

You may not see Gyoo-kaiy, but he's there. Believe me.