Make a regular Monday night appointment with a therapist, to explore whether, when it comes to your life in general, you’re “here for the right reasons.”
Round up your best pals, dress up in your hottest “casual” outfits, and drive out to a dying rural town. Walk around loudly talking about how small and dead it is and speculate regarding whether you could ever, under any circumstances, live there.
Take your boyfriend to your office and tell him you want him to masturbate into a plastic cup—or, if you don’t work at a fertility clinic, just make him do whatever it is that people do at your work.
Solicit romantic advice from a pair of men whose names are adjectives.
Think of someone you know is being lied to—if not by another person, by himself. Call him and spill the beans. Say you did it because you care about him so much.
Go out to an outrageously fancy dinner. Don’t eat a bite of it.
Hang out with your sister’s boyfriend, and just spend the whole night saying, “Yeah, my sister…she’s a wild one! Yep. She’s a real free spirit.” Leave it at that.
Go out to pick pomegranates; come back acting morally superior.
Get dressed up for a cocktail party, then sit around drinking until the sun comes up. Whenever anyone leaves the room, everyone else gossip about that person. If someone goes home, toast to the fact that they’re gone.
Play ghosts in the graveyard.