-logys and I

(Satire)

Where should I start?

Hmmm... OK. Alright!

I started reading the news on Facebook every morning about a year ago. Before that, I rarely used social media. But once you start using Facebook, there are two things you can hardly escape: ads and posts served up by the algorithm.

Well, that’s where the story begins.

There was one particular post that kept appearing every morning. Even clicking “Not interested” didn’t help. I have no idea how Facebook’s algorithm works. But somehow, I’ve been seeing that post almost every single day for nearly a year.

By now, you’re probably wondering: What on earth is this post? Why all this buildup?

Nothing extraordinary, actually. It’s about academic disciplines and all those words ending in -logy — from Biology to Epistemology.

Very interesting!

The problem is, I simply can’t make the post disappear. I don’t know why Facebook is so determined to promote all these -logys to me.

Block it? If I keep blocking things, my block list will soon be as long as an ant’s tail. So...

eventually, I decided to stop fighting it and simply adapt to life with -logy.

How?

Every morning, I open my eyes with Wakeupology and get out of bed with Getupology. Then I drink some water with Drinkology and stretch with Exerciseology. Next comes Poopology, followed by Bathology, Wearology, Eatology, and finally Brushology.

Then I head to work with Walkology. With a tiny hope of winning a Nobel Prize someday — Nobelology — tucked away in my heart, I get on with my research using Workology. When the time comes, I have coffee with Coffeeology and lunch with Eatology.

At meetings, my colleagues and I present, discuss, and debate using Speakology. Sometimes, when the discussion gets a little too enthusiastic, it drifts into Loudology, where Presenceology rises a few decibels before Contributionology catches up.

If I accidentally bump into someone on the way back to the office, that’s Sorryology. By the way, Sorryology is perhaps the one discipline everyone must Masterologize if they hope to Enjoyologize a lasting Relationshipology.

Then I read with Readology and analyse things with Thinkology. If something interesting comes to mind, I scribble it somewhere in my notebook using Scribbleology. Whenever an email notification pops up, Checkology kicks in.

Then it’s back to the project with more Thinkology. When a new idea appears, I turn to Writeology. And when the project idea starts looking promising, Hopeology begins.

Then I write the grant proposal with Grantology and send it off with Submitology. Once the grant proposal is submitted, there is only one discipline left: Waitology. If the grant gets rejected - Rejectology, Disappointology kicks in; if it gets accepted - Acceptology, Happyology takes over. 

Once a manuscript enters Submitology, Waitology follows. Then comes Reviewology; when the comments make little sense, it slips into Nonsenseology, followed quickly by Annoyology, before I finally surrender to Revisionology. And if a reviewer has just had a fight with someone, somewhere, Rejectology may arrive without warning.

Reviewology is one discipline when I’m the reviewer—but when the authors respond to everyone except me and leave all my comments untouched, it quietly turns into the art ofIgnoreology. Before long, I find myself specializing in Invisibleology, followed inevitably byWhy-did-I-botherology.

And then there is Reviewer2ology—the ever-so-sympathetic branch of Reviewology. Unfortunately, Stopology for Reviewer2ology has yet to be invented, while Welcomeology is already well established.

In the evening, when the workday is finally over, I shut down my computer with Shutdownology and head home with Walkology, work out with Exerciseology, and move through Bathology, Eatology, and Brushology, before settling down to Enjoyology with a movie.

And just like that, another day is gone—with Goneology.

Finally, I climb into bed with Climbology and drift off with Sleepology.

Then morning comes... Wakeupology.

Again