The Lazy Genius Guide to Doing Hard Things Without Crying
Because adulting is hard—and tissues are expensive

Let’s face it: hard things suck. Whether it’s waking up before sunrise, cleaning your inbox, breaking up with your phone addiction, or finally doing that thing you’ve postponed for 3 years—it’s all exhausting. But what if you could get through life’s challenges without becoming a sobbing burrito of despair? Welcome to the Lazy Genius Guide to Doing Hard Things Without Crying.
Let’s start with something familiar: exercise. My friend Tu decided to start jogging every morning to lose belly fat. He bought expensive running shoes, downloaded a fitness app, and even bought those stretchy shorts that scream, “I mean business.” Day one, he jogged two blocks and came back home panting like a dying goat. Day two, he quit and said, “This is not of God.”
What Tunde forgot was the Lazy Genius rule: start small, like insultingly small. Instead of trying to run a marathon, just wear your sneakers and walk to the gate. Boom—you’re winning. Momentum starts where motivation gives up.
The next trick is tricking your brain. Yes, lie to it. Pretend the hard thing is a game. This is what my cousin Ada does. Ada hates washing dishes. So, she pretends she's on a cooking reality show and the judges are watching. Suddenly she’s scrubbing pots like her life depends on it. She even gives dramatic interviews like, “If I lose this challenge, I lose my dignity.” Dishwashing? Completed it, sis.
Hard things become easier when you attach them to something you enjoy. Hate reading boring emails? Sip zobo while reading them. Can’t stand online classes? Play calming music in the background and pretend you’re in a sci-fi learning pod in the year 3000. Boom—hard thing, handled.
Let’s talk about emotions. The reason we cry isn’t always the task itself—it’s the build-up. You think, “Oh no, I have to file my taxes,” and suddenly you’re reliving every poor decision you’ve ever made. Relax. You’re not failing at life. You’re just an adult doing adult stuff, which is hard for everyone—yes, even that influencer who always looks flawless while holding a green smoothie.
Now here's the part most lazy geniuses forget: celebrate ridiculously. You finished one email? Eat a cookie. You managed to get out of bed before 9 a.m.? Do a victory dance. This isn’t about being childish—it’s psychology. Your brain loves rewards. Train it to see effort as something worth celebrating, not something that deserves tears and regret.
Remember my uncle Femi? He hated ironing clothes. One day, he ironed one shirt while watching football and realized he didn’t die. By week three, he had ddevelopedan all-blown system: iron during halftime, cheer during goals. Now he irons for his neighbors too—for a fee. The hard thing became a hustle. Lazy genius move.
Sometimes the hard thing is mental, like breaking up with a toxic friend or finally opening that rejection email. This is where the secret sauce comes in: feelings are not facts. You feel scared. Okay. That doesn’t mean you’re going to fail. You feel lazy. Cool. That doesn’t mean you’re weak. Acknowledge the feeling, but don’t let it boss you around like your village aunty at Christmas.
If all else fails, get a friend involved. Hard things are less painful when you suffer with someone else. Want to start writing? Create a fake blog and challenge your friend to post weekly. Hate budgeting? Call a broke friend and laugh over your mutual financial mess while you both fix it. Together, you're just two lazy geniuses pretending to be adults—and winning.
In conclusion, doing hard things doesn’t require heroism. It requires creativity, humor, and the ability to laugh through the nonsense. You're not lazy—you’re just energy-efficient. You're not weak—you just need better tactics. You don’t need to cry—you need snacks, a playlist, and a little trickery.
Quote to remember: "Discipline is choosing between what you want now and what you want most." – Abraham Lincoln (probably, maybe not, but it sounds smart)
Call to Action: Next time you face something tough, don’t panic. Don’t cry. Just ask yourself: “How would a lazy genius handle this?” Then do that. And maybe, reward yourself with puff-puff afterward.
About the Creator
Pure Crown
I am a storyteller blending creativity with analytical thinking to craft compelling narratives. I write about personal development, motivation, science, and technology to inspire, educate, and entertain.



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