Trimming the faffage

Every Saturday morning, a strange man knocks at my door and dumps a bright red box on my step before sprinting down my driveway and causing my dog to go a little bit mental.

We’ve been using one of those meal prep delivery services for a while now. And I bloody love it.

There’s a great range of food and it’s all amazing, but what I get most excited about…

(and this is gonna sound more than a little bit weird, but I think you can handle it)

… are the ingredients. 

Told you I was weird.

Let me explain this particular aspect of my weird…

I love watching cookery shows, but I hate cooking.

It’s too much of a faff – having to hunt for all the ingredients, get all the pots and pans together, plus I’ve got to find time in my hectic social calendar for the inevitable “I’m sorry for shouting at you… I didn’t mean it” apology I’m going to have to deliver to at least one family member afterward.

Yeah, I’m not “faffing’s” biggest fan. And that’s what I love about cooking shows…

… Not the recipes, or how mouth-watering the meals look at the end…

(So far, I’ve had to return three widescreen TVs due to “slobber-induced corrosion” issues)

… but how cooking shows START…

… with everything pre-prepped and ready to go.

All the ingredients are always measured and laid out in nice little bowls, like this:

All the presenter has to do is pick up a dish and chuck it in the general direction of the pan. 

No bending over as you squint, trying to measure EXACTLY 523.7 grams of flour…

“Are the blue numbers kilo’s?”

No checking, to see if they have a “dessert spoon to tablespoon” conversion option.

“I reckon it’s three. Three feels right. I’m going with three. I mean, can you really have too much Carolina Reaper chilli powder?”

Don’t get me wrong, even with the faff-free meal prep service, there’s still work to do, especially for a numbskull* like me.

But it’s a much less onerous task in my mind than having to measure everything myself.

* To give you a gauge for my level of my numbskullery, I once cooked a meal for my wife and asked, “how do you like your chicken?”. That did NOT create the relaxing ambience I was hoping for. Though I did discover it’s a great line to keep in mind if you ever get unwillingly lumbered with the job of chef at a barbeque.

If I had to do everything, we’d be eating beans every night. Maybe even warmed up if I was feeling especially motivated.

It’s not about eliminating ALL the faff…

It’s about eliminating ENOUGH faff so you can get the job done.

So if you’re not doing something you know you should be doing, see how much faffage is holding you back… and then trim it back.

If something is:

Boring – make it more interesting by trying to do it at a world-record pace…

Challenging – break it into smaller steps so it seems more doable…

Daunting – give yourself a reward to look forward to – something equal to the level of faffery required to get the task done…

And if writing emails to your list feels too much of a faff…

… check out the link in my footer for some free ideas to give you a running start. You’ll be effortlessly cranking out “faff-free” emails in no time!

John Holt

P.S. Damn! 

I should’ve said:

“And if writing emails feels too much of a faff, check out my email writing course “Sent.” – it’ll guide you effortlessly through a simple approach to writing emails that sell:”

Ah well… next time, I guess.