Weight Loss Tip Booklet - 151 Simple Ideas

I am a perfect-o-holic.

Sure, I know it’s folly; yet I can picture that magical happy place where all goes according to plan and everything works out as I imagined. I have a plan.

Today, I become the pinnacle of modern workplace efficiency. Without exception, every single solitary item on my to-do list will be accomplished — even those lingering on the pad since ‘07. Phone calls will be returned in a timely, upbeat, eager manner, complete with all the necessary and required information at hand. Today, every goal will be exceeded; every deadline shall be beat. Should I spot a customer, client, co-worker, or vendor, I shall stretch out a warm enthusiastic hand in friendship, greeting her with passion, warmth, and energy; developing the ultimate positive reputation. Today, all reports will be finished on time and with precision. Today, the five-year backlog of filing shall be ended. Facebook farm games, really cute cat videos on YouTube, and forwarded emails with titles like “LOL! OMG! You’ve got to see this!” shall not deter me from my mission. I am a rock. (I shall be so effectual that I will have even had enough spare time to properly arrange my computer’s desktop icons in perfect order. After all, I owe it to myself to have some fun.)

Moreover, I will not ignore my most important relationship. Mark this date; for it is when I became the perfect spouse. Should my loving wife require assistance, no matter what else I am doing, I shall immediately — sans attitude, of course — cease all other pursuits, and lavish upon her all the attention she so richly deserves. As illustration of how central is our shared life, I will make time to clean the bathroom, prepare dinner, wash the dishes, pay the bills, and even massage her aching feet, expecting nothing in return. Today, I am the perfect husband.

To achieve these lofty goals, I must reserve time for me, for should I falter, all who depend on me will be let down. Therefore, I shall rise with sufficient time to allow for hours of meditation and soul centering. After which, I shall adorn myself in a made-in-the-U.S.A. fashionable, waterproof, breathable, sweat suit with state-of-the-art walking gear. To which, I will attach a heart monitor, fire up some inspirational music, grab the walking weights, and tread briskly for miles; assuring my heart rate remains in its ultimate target range the entire time.

Upon returning home, I shall shower in purified, alkaline, ionized microwater, and then prepare the most important meal of the day. My healthy breakfast consists entirely of 100% organic, all natural, unprocessed, non-fat, free-range, locally grown, high-fiber foods. Further ensuring complete balance, I masticate each morsel 32 times, one for each tooth.

This will be my new dawn, my genesis, my beginning. All will be perfect!

Before the rooster crows, I am gently roused by my ascending, progressive, Tibetan chime, Zen alarm. Noticing the early hour, the stars against the dark night sky, and picturing all I will accomplish this perfect day in perfect order — I jerk my certified organic ivory-colored, imported, Egyptian cotton blanket over my head, slam the snooze button, muttering, “Yick, there’s always tomorrow,” just like I did yesterday.

A thought crosses my somnolent synapses, “Maybe, this all-or-nothing attitude is overwhelming and holding me back? Would I be more productive if I set more realistic goals?”

Pondering the revelation, I realize that if I did, I’d actually have to change. Why would I do that when everything’s perfect?

About the author:  Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and the CDO of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com, a website for people and organizations who are frustrated with making promises and are ready to make a change. Sign up for his free newsletter at www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com or friend him at facebook.com/thistimeimeanit. He is also available for coaching and speaking engagements at 707.442.6243 or scottq@scottqmarcus.com

Pop quiz! What did they call “multitasking” in the eighties?

Answer: “lack of focus.”

I don’t mean to sound like an old fuddy-duddy (of course, using the term “fuddy-duddy” does tend to portray me as such), but like it or not, I am officially of a “certain age.” More times than I care to admit, I have strutted with strong intention into the kitchen, and upon arrival, completely blanked as to why I was there. Or, finding myself looking for an item in the closet, I will be briefly distracted, and forget what I was looking for. I have, embarrassingly enough, “lost” my keys on the way to the door on more than one occasion.

My wife and I have entire conversations without ever using proper nouns.

“Hi Honey, I saw that guy today.”

“Which guy?”

“You know, the man who did the thing around the house last summer.”

“Oh, with the stuff and that equipment?”

“No, the other one. He worked on the what-do-you-call-it with those tools. You know, over by that place...”

“Oh, him! With all that oily gear?”

“Yeah, him.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?”

We’re not trying to be secretive; it’s simply that the words don’t form as quickly as we need so, undeterred, we press on in the language of “pro-noun-cia.” (What’s bizarre is we actually understand each other.)

Distractions are prominent in my work, which causes me to regularly bounce from one task to another. As illustration, the vast majority of my time is in front of a computer monitor. I might be — as I am now — writing a column. Whilst engaged in said project, my email program beeps, alerting me to a new message. Like a bright shiny object on a string in front of a cat, I immediately shift gears to examine it. The sender included a link; now I find myself online, searching for a new book. Not remembering the title I wanted, I go to our bookcase for inspiration. There I notice an accumulation of dust, requiring me to retrieve the vacuum cleaner. This routes me through the kitchen and it dawns on me that I must eat. Since I am forever dieting, I track everything I consume, so I return to the computer to do so and remember that today is “bill-paying” day. To get organized for the endeavor, I rearrange my file cabinet — until I recall that I was on deadline. I return to the original mission, having accomplished none of my interim goals and now desperately behind schedule. Oy vey!

So it comes as no surprise that a report this week finds older people have less of an ability to multitask, possibly because they can't refocus as well after getting interrupted. Dr. Adam Gazzaley, the study’s co-author, explains, “Older adults pay too much attention to the irrelevant information.” The problem is they (we?) have “trouble switching back” to the issue at hand and disengaging from the interruption.

The difficulty with multitasking is that we can't really focus on multiple assignments all at once, said Russell A. Poldrack, a psychology professor in Texas. “We are almost always switching back and forth between the different tasks, and there is a cost to this switching, which is why people are nearly always worse when they try to multitask compared to focusing on single tasks.” The solution, according to Mr. Poldrack is — if you absolutely have to multitask — “improve general brain health, and the best way that we know [to do that] is aerobic exercise.”

I hope I can remember that.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and the CDO of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com, a website for people and organizations who are frustrated with making promises and are ready to make a change. Sign up for his free newsletter at www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com or friend him at facebook.com/thistimeimeanit. He is also available for coaching and speaking engagements at 707.442.6243 or scottq@scottqmarcus.com


"What do you mean, ''oops''? Nothing good ever starts with 'oops'."

"Really? I'm not sure about that. 'Oops' means I made a mistake."

"I know what it means; I'm not stupid. But it never leads anywhere good."

"I don't agree."

"OK, how 'bout this? I was at the dentist a few months ago. I was getting a tooth pulled..."

"Ouch; that's not fun."

"No, it's not. So, they've got me in that chair that looks like something from the Spanish Inquisition. My mouth is numb, I'm drooling like a one-year old - "

"Sounds attractive."

"Anyway... They have the chair leaning way back, the light is in my eyes, I've got one of those rubber things in my mouth - what do you call 'em?"

"Dental dam."

"Yeah, I've got a dental dam in my mouth and the dentist is yanking and pulling on my tooth. Suddenly the tooth pops loose, the dentist loses his grip, I hear him say, 'oops;' and before you know it, he's got me out of the chair, flipped over, patting me on the back like he's burping a baby."

"Wow! What happened?"

"Apparently, he dropped the tooth into my throat."

"Really? Was it dangerous?"

"Well, he was concerned that it could get in my lungs. But it didn't; apparently I swallowed it."

"So everything came out OK in the end?"

"Is that meant to be cute?"

"No, maybe I worded it poorly, but I meant what I said."

"Yeah, sure, I was fine."

"So 'oops' was a good thing then."

"No, it was a bad thing. He made a mistake. It could have had terrible results."

"But, it didn't, because he saw that he made a mistake, and corrected for it real quickly. Let's say, he didn't admit the mistake and just pretended that he still had your tooth in his pliers and just went about his business, not telling you what was going wrong."

"Well, that wouldn't have been smart. I could have got hurt."

"Right, because he admitted his mistake and he learned from it, things got better. And, you know what? I'll bet he's much more aware of that problem now then he was back then."

"I'm sure he is."

"So, future patients are probably better off, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so."

"So admitting his mistake took care of you quickly and will help others prevent from experiencing what you experienced. That's two good things from one 'oops.'"

"But it's embarrassing to make mistakes."

"Maybe. But it's more embarrassing to make them repeatedly, isn't it?"


"So, the quicker we acknowledge we made a mistake and the sooner we adjust the better off we are."

"But, wouldn't it be better never to slip up?"

"Sure it would. And wouldn't the world be better if everything worked out exactly like we expect it to?"

"That's not going to happen."

"Spot on. And it's equally unrealistic to assume you won't screw-up now and then, especially if you're trying new things. So without mistakes, there is no reason for adjustment, which means we're not learning anything; therefore nothing changes. So, one could say mistakes are actually step one in improving our life."

"But only if we acknowledge them and change them."

"To do anything else would be a mistake."