The carrot at the end of the stick. Why is it that little “treats” or indulgences we promise ourselves always make mundane or overwhelming tasks more manageable?
When I was a kid I took piano lessons. I didn’t like practicing AT ALL. When I couldn’t sneak into the kitchen without my mother catching me and moving the timer on the stove ahead a few minutes, I’d sneak into the freezer and steal a cookie. Promising myself “after this scale” or “when you finish this piece you can go and get a treat” made the torturous practice all the more bearable.
That is until my mom notices a significant depletion in her baked goods and then wrapped her Tupperware mummy-like with tape and wrote using big imposing letters “DO NOT EAT OR ELSE”.
And then there were midterms and final exams when the junk food and soda pop aisles at grocery stores…
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