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irony redefined
Today instead of studying medicine or writing, I read Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers cover-to-cover.
What this basically means is that instead of devoting any of the hours in my day towards the two areas in which I would like to one day have a career, I read about how achieving real success in anything is estimated to take ten thousand hours of effort.
How anyone thinks I have my life together is something of a mystery, I must admit.
(Yesterday I spent those same precious hours reviewing Sebastian Faulks's A Week in December, which I adored.)
What this basically means is that instead of devoting any of the hours in my day towards the two areas in which I would like to one day have a career, I read about how achieving real success in anything is estimated to take ten thousand hours of effort.
How anyone thinks I have my life together is something of a mystery, I must admit.
(Yesterday I spent those same precious hours reviewing Sebastian Faulks's A Week in December, which I adored.)
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