As discussed, the Things category deals with inanimate objects and concepts, neither of which possesses the irksome feelings and opinions of your fellow human beings.
True, some items on your Things list might technically be people (I consider the Grateful Dead a thing, for example, though it takes the form of human bodies), and they might also technically qualify as strangers (I don’t personally know any members of the Grateful Dead). But when I say strangers, I really mean people you’ve encountered but whom you don’t actually know, like that guy on your vacation who’s trying reeeeeally hard to get you to sign up for the time-share sales pitch and you’re like, “Guy, I don’t give a fuck about time shares or about whether you make your quotas.” Although I guess if you already put Time Shares on your Things list, then Guy Selling Time Shares doesn’t really need to go on your Strangers list—but a little redundancy never hurt anyone, especially in the pursuit of enlightenment.
Anyway…
If I were to make a list today of the things that are hanging out in my mental barn, it would include (but not be limited to):
1. Planning my upcoming vacation
2. Worrying about whether it’s going to rain on my vacation
3. The fact that Donald Trump is the Republican front-runner for president
4. Finishing writing this book so I can go on my vacation
As you know, if there are items on my list that annoy, then I should not be giving my fucks to them. Vice versa with joy.
So in studying my list, I realize that I do get joy from vacation planning and writing this book, while the prospects of a Trump presidency and a rainy forecast are not only annoying, but are also things I can’t control. Therefore, I should give my fucks to the former two and get ready to sweep the latter two out of my barn like a couple of piles of rotting hay and calcified horse manure. (But the sweeping itself is Step 2—we’ll get there in due time.)
For now, you’re going to canvass your own mental barn and make a list of all the things you find in there. Maybe your list will overlap with mine, or maybe you chose to live in Seattle or Scotland because rain brings you joy. I don’t pretend to understand that life choice, but I’m not judging you. Well, maybe a little… though by now you should know better than to give a fuck about what I think, right?
The point is, no two lists of fucks are created equal.
Ask yourself: What are the things you happen upon in your barn tour that make you sigh involuntarily with pleasure? How about the ones that create a feeling in your stomach evocative of a fork getting stuck in the garbage disposal?
Does it bring joy or does it annoy? When the time comes, list ’em all!
For inspiration, see below for a list of things that used to clutter my mental space and cause me no end of annoy. I’ve since stopped giving them my precious fucks. (This is just the tip of the fuckberg, but you’ll get the idea.)
1. What Other People Think. Remember: This one is nonnegotiable. All fucks stem from here.
2. Having a “bikini body.” Oh good God, the day I stopped giving a fuck about how I looked in a bathing suit, it was like a litter of kittens in black leotards had tumbled down from heaven to perform “All the Single Ladies” for the sole enjoyment of my thighs and belly. Magical!
3. Basketball. I have never enjoyed or understood basketball. I don’t watch it, and when invited, I don’t go to games. I just don’t give a fuck, and my life is no worse for it. You can apply this to any sport or sports team, except the Boston Red Sox, because I said so.
4. Being a morning person. For most of my life I was ashamed of being useless in the early hours, of not wanting to schedule anything before noon, and of frequently arriving just in the nick of time to morning meetings. Society really seems to value morning people and look down on those of us who don’t (or can’t) fall in line. Once I embraced the freelance life, I stopped giving a fuck about being a morning person once and for all. Snack on it, morning people.
5. Taylor Swift. Everybody be all, “Tay-Tay!” and I’m like, “Nope.”
6. Iceland. I’m sure Iceland is a beautiful country, but every time someone starts telling me about plans for their once-in-a-lifetime trip to Iceland, or about how much fun they had in Iceland, or that “the majority of Icelanders believe in elves!” my eyes start glazing over like I’m at a Knicks game.
7. Calculus. This may have been my earliest recorded instance of not giving a fuck. My high-school guidance counselor insisted that I had to take this class in order to have any hope of getting into a good college. I thought long and hard about it, but ultimately determined that I did not give a fuck about calculus, and could not be bothered. I did not take the class, and I did get into Harvard. You can’t argue with those results.
8. Feigning sincerity. I am the embodiment of “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I just don’t give a fuck about faking it.
9. Passwords. One of my most recent success stories. I used to give so many fucks and feel so much anxiety about personal security, but then I read a number of articles by experts that suggest we’re all one pimply Slavic teenager away from getting hacked anyway, so I thought, Maybe I could just use the same password for everything. Would it really matter? Then I realized that, after sixteen years together, my husband still doesn’t know my six-letter Hotmail password—so I could probably stop giving a fuck about devising a different Alan Turing–approved crypto phrase for my Gap, Ann Taylor, and Victoria’s Secret accounts. So far, so good.
10. Google Plus.* Didn’t even try it. #NotSorry.
My list may contain things about which you do give a fuck, and that’s okay. You should feel free to slap in those earbuds and listen to “Shake It Off” on repeat while you poke around your barn.
Maybe you don’t give a fuck about wearing underwear. Or the Oxford comma. Or staying to the right on a sidewalk or stairwell. (In which case, you’re an asshole, or European. Perhaps both?)
Whatever—the world is your oyster!
As I was writing this book, I really opened the floodgates on Things I Don’t Give a Fuck About (apparently I have very strong feelings about all-natural peanut butter). And while this was personally invigorating, the NotSorry novice might find it more helpful to see a list of things I do give a fuck about and note how I’ve freed up more time, energy, and/or money to devote to them.
Remember that Fuck Budget? Here’s mine, in action:
DON’T GIVE A FUCK
The threat of a nuclear Iran
Greek yogurt
“Glamping”
Lobster
The pope’s latest opinion
Napkin rings
The Olympics
Reading the New Yorker
Going to the gym
Taking Facebook quizzes
College football
“Tummy time”
DO GIVE A FUCK
Climate change
All of the hummus
Laser hair removal
More caviar, please
Reese Witherspoon’s Instagram
Coasters
Finishing season 5 of Shameless
Literally anything else I could be doing
Sleeping
Staring off into space
Campus rape
Excusing myself to get some more wine
Some of the things on my lists might seem overly simplistic or shallow, but I assure you that they represent a very clear and quantifiable allocation of my time, energy, and/or money.
I often feel pressure to go to the gym, for instance, and then guilt that I never do. By deciding not to give a fuck about gym-going, I’m liberating myself from those moments of feeling guilty and inadequate (and fat), and instead joyfully indulging in an extra hour of sleep each morning. I’m reallocating time and reserving energy, and, if you factor in membership fees, I’m saving money too.
It’s a No-Fucks-Given trifecta!
(I also cannot overstate the value, to me, of never having another conversation about or eating yogurt ever again. I feel so much better even just telling you that, honestly.)
As you work your way through the Four Categories, you’re going to identify things that annoy YOU and those that bring YOU joy. Some of these revelations may cause other people to question your priorities, but who the fuck cares? You’re out there, giving fewer fucks and living your best life.
I know I am.
Just think: In the time it took you to read this far, I’ve already completed a whole slew of NotSorry Step 2s. I finally stopped giving a fuck about napkin rings and the New Yorker, had my bikini line lasered, and spent a good deal of quality time staring off into space while the taste of creamy Sabra Classic hummus lingered on my tongue. And when the 2016 Rio Games roll around, I’ll be ready to stop giving a fuck about the Olympics once and for all.
It’s important to have goals.
And speaking of goals—as some poor schlub trains for ten hours a day to jump a quarter inch farther into a pile of dirt than Mike Powell did in Tokyo in 1991, it’s time for you to inventory the things stacked up in your mental barn and make your first list.
Don’t be stingy. This is important!