There are no magic wands in this life, I know this. In order to feel better about my body, I need to eat better (and less) and exercise more. To write a book, I need to make time everyday to write some words. To improve at the violin, I need to practice. To read more, I need to turn off the TV and open a book.
None of this is brain surgery. All of it would make me happier. But somehow, at the end of each and every day, I have the energy only to make dinner, and then collapse on the couch in a heap of sweatpants.
There will never be a better time than this moment to achieve any of these goals, so I somehow have to remember that in 60 years, god willing, I will never wish that I'd watched more re-runs of Friends or How I Met Your Mother. Life is for the living, and reruns are for sick days and heartbreak.