By 2021 I will be at least 100% more awesome than I am now.
Although I will be 34 years old, severely balding (if not completely bald), probably married and most likely quite jaded on life, I will still be twice as awesome as I am now. And I’m already more awesome than not.
I’m 24 years old, live in Melbourne’s trendy inner suburbs, play in a band, have a postgraduate qualification and have a cool and attractive girlfriend who helps me choose mostly fashionable inner city clothes.
I could definitely be more awesome, there’s no avoiding that. I’ve never travelled, my wardrobe is held up by just two pairs of jeans, I don’t really do drugs, work full-time and can’t do any extreme sports. There’s actually not a single sport I’m good at.
The thing that makes me awesome is a perpetual and nagging lack of satisfaction. It doesn’t matter how much I achieve or how many lucky breaks I get, I’ll still be a little bit disappointed. I could become the most awesome guy in Melbourne and I’d probably still be a bit bummed about my lack of traction in Sydney.
But despite all this, there is one thing I’m sure of and one goal I will be satisfied by. By becoming more awesome in yearly ten per cent increments, I will be twice as awesome as I am now. It will be like two me’s in the same room, both on their A game, but squeezed into just my body. It will be hard not to want to hang out with me.
To make this happen I will dissect every aspect of my life into microscopic chunks that I can rate out of ten. At the end of each year, perhaps more often, I will update my scores in an unflinching exercise of self-examination and track my progress.
I will then report back on my experiences, and explain to you how to become more awesome, even if it’s by just 3% across two years.
While I’m pretty excited about doubling my awesomeness I’m aware that it’s not going to be an easy job, and the more I think about it the more complex it gets.
There will be areas where I’m guaranteed easy point gains, such as: ‘amount of recipes I know’ and ‘how much sweet furniture I own’. It would be pretty hard to forget more recipes than you pick up in an average year, and as I work my way up to higher paying jobs and become forced to upgrade worn out homewares buying sweet furniture won’t be such a big deal.
But there are also areas that slowly drain away every day, like ‘joint flexibility’ and ‘youthful exuberance’. I suspect that these declining areas will be more numerous than the growing ones, as becoming less awesome each year seems par for the course.
There will also be some things that I know would increase my awesomeness, but I am unwilling to do. Smoking cigarettes for example. I started smoking at 14 because I wanted people to think I looked rebellious and awesome, but have recently quit because I don’t want to die and I’m tired of only being able to chase trams for 50 metres. But I still think that smoking does make people look more awesome. Taking acid, base jumping and getting neck tattoos are all things that would probably make me more awesome, but I’m not keen on.
To counter this I am going to have to work hard to not only make up for these losses, but exceed them by a significant amount.
I am going to have to change the way I live.
It is April 2010 at the time of writing, the day after my twenty-fourth birthday, and the rest of this year will be devoted to itemizing every single aspect of my life that contributes to my awesomeness. I will then start 2011 with a clear benchmark from which I will extend.
I will have to set myself strict targets, and the goal will be to improve my awesomeness by at least ten percent for ten consecutive years.