Had I known that invoking the immortal words of Bobby McFerrin would have spurned such a tongue lashing, I would have said nothing.
All work and no play makes Shaq a dull boy, but at least his advisor The Nicessist has some advice on how to look at his predilection to labour.
How much energy do you exert on any given day worrying about what “they” will think? I had to get a vitamin IV drip hooked to my veins just to fret over my fatty cuticles and all the hurtful things “they” would say.
This question has been nibbling away at me for some time and it is particularly important that I find a satisfactory definition soon because I recently learned there is scientific research being done in Southern California that hopes to make happiness measureable and finite.
The other day, to my shock, I was chastised for answering the most dull question–“HOW DO YOU FEEL?”–without an ounce of irony. In a rare moment of unadulterated honesty, I replied, “Nothing.”