Most mornings I sleep in longer than I'd like, after staying up later than I'd like the night before, watching a little more TV than I'd have liked to.
Yet, I get to work on time. Mostly thanks to a quick $3 McDonalds breakfast on the way.
First thing at my desk, I open up a web browser. MSN's homepage screams, a flurry of sensationalized titles and images. Fresh crickets for my lizard brain. Mostly junk, I am well aware, yet, here I am reading about the administration's current outrage, empty NFL gossip, and three things you should NOT do at the airport.
Thirty minutes later I remember why I opened the browser.
Not only did this frustrating episode become routine, but I actually started looking forward to it. I stopped resisting. Clicking articles and reading comments, even though disappointment was nearly guaranteed.
I ignored the obvious solution and attempted to "curate" my MSN news feed. Resetting preferences, turning off comments, and spending an hour choosing topics and reputable sources to follow. Maybe I could create a way to stay in the loop, like an old fashioned fella reading the morning paper.
But the polarizing junk quickly found its way back to the top of my feed. I was back to that mind-numbing routine that made me feel like shit afterwards. The algorithm had me.
This cycle seems to come up a lot, whether it is Twitter, Reddit, YouTube, or even an innocuous email inbox. I want to stay in the loop and be a part of the discourse. Maybe stumble upon amazing people doing amazing things. Yet, I mostly get caught in a current of outrage and slop.
And it is not just consuming internet content. This empty calorie cycle is everywhere. I want to be healthy, work on things I care about, and nourish meaningful relationships. Maybe even improve the communities I am a part of.
However, I make so many bad choices that go against all that.
Choosing terrible food well aware that it is terrible. Choosing bland TV shows instead of classic movies or books I never have time for. Choosing polarizing news articles instead of writing my own words. Choosing to scroll on my phone instead of Pokemon battling my sons.
I know I have agency. I know that I can be a healthier person with more discipline. I know I can write a book if I show up every day. I know I can be a better dad and husband.
I know, I know, I know.
And isn't that the frustrating part? Knowing you have agency, and yet still losing the same damn battles repeatedly.
However, this is not completely fair. We are a product of our environment. Ultra-processed foods are designed to entice us to overeat. Social media apps are designed to keep us scrolling, mental health be damned. TV shows are designed to keep us passively binging for hours.
Blaming all of our bad choices on a rigged system seems reasonable.
But here we find ourselves between Scylla and Charybdis. Blame the rigged system and surrender agency. Or take full personal responsibility, beating yourself up and loathing others for their perceived failures too.
Either path leads to the same place: cynicism and giving up.
What if I tried a different framing? With the endless nudges toward bad choices, I am not going to win every battle. That is not a moral failure. Nothing to be ashamed of. Some clever folks found a way to profitably outfox me. The moral failures can belong to them.
That does not let me off the hook, though. Being aware of the negative consequences of UPF does not mean I am going to lose weight tomorrow. However, exercising because I want to make it to my grandchild's high school graduation is a much better motivator than not wanting to feel like a loser.
Small shifts, not revolutions. Earlier this month I changed the default MSN landing page. I no longer waste thirty minutes reading junk articles and internet comments every time I open the browser. Deleting Twitter and Reddit freed up hours I didn't know I had.
Yet, I still give in to a McDonalds breakfast before work, frequently get lost in Youtube's rabbit holes, and read more news than books. I watch more Netflix originals than Stanley Kubrick. Yesterday, I paid $3 for a Diet Coke at the Home Depot checkout line.
Yeah, losing these battles will always be frustrating. But hey, stacking up some wins against the brightest minds with the deepest pockets in the world is no small feat.