The midult’s guide to winning at life using mathematics
How to avoid a hangover, get over heartbreak and, erm, keep your iPhone fully charged ... by brushing up on your maths
At school, we were not good at maths — not good at all. “It’s not that you’re bad at maths, it’s just that you think you’re bad at maths,” they said, which we thought was silly at the time.
And yet, as life filled to bursting, leaving little time for intricate calculations and even less time to pause to make those calculations, various mental arithmetics burrowed their way into our brains. Turns out we are boffins when it comes to certain strains of maths; the kinds of equations that relate directly to the mysteries of the Midult universe.
Hangover maths
The little getting-ready sharpener must be included in the evening’s full mathematical reckoning, as it may be the drink that tips the equation into something noncomputable. The booze formula can only hold true if the number of units is equal to the number of waters, and if the units are crossbred then there is likely to be extreme malfunction. If cigarettes are introduced, the figures will not add up.
Heartbreak maths
This operates on a system of constantly shifting risk analysis. For the mathematician mid-heartbreak, the calculation revolves around the scientific probability of actual survival. Once recovery is established as a viable option, the advanced numerist may be able to work towards an anti-bitterness formula. The single mathematician, embarking on an untested unknown, may find their subconscious performing an is-this-going-to-be-another-f ***ing-disaster computation.
Smartphone maths
Remember a time before smartphones, when your battery would last three days? When you only panicked at six per cent? Nowadays, it must not be less than 92 per cent charged upon leaving the house in the morning, and all windows must be closed except for the one in use. If you are out all day, there will be NO listening to music or podcasts. (Are you insane? That takes us to 66 per cent in seven minutes.) And easy on the Instascrolls. Ration yourself to one per hour.
A frugal early afternoon opens a window for some Amazon action around the 4 pm slump and a fullon texting frenzy during the commute home. If you are the type who carries around one of those portable chargers, then you are not our people. (But can we borrow it, please?)
Sleep maths
You’re out to dinner. You have quietly calculated that, if it’s 9:30 pm now and you’re on the main course, you should be away by 10:30, which means home by 11, bed by 11:20 and lights off at 11:30 (as long as you don’t decide to read the entire internet before you attempt to drift off). You’ll make it through to 6:30 am, and that’s OK.
Death maths
The numbers are rarely resolved, but constantly recalibrated according to aches, pains, missed smear tests, headaches, moles, sick friends, scaremongering headlines, cigarettes and birthdays. “More or less than halfway through?” becomes the question as we throw our minds towards the big balance sheet in the sky. Cancer x stroke = p/karma.
Caffeine maths
This is an exact science aiming to hit the perfect equilibrium between corpse and fiend. The baseline must be a comprehensive understanding of the subject’s individual reaction to coffee at all times of the day — with and without additional sustenance.
Annabel knows that three single-shot coffees and no breakfast makes for a dynamically productive morning during which people will hide behind any available object — or even each other — to avoid contact with her. Instant coffee is merely a placebo, unless actually ingested as a solid, in which case the mathematician will probably start to hear colours. Emilie is not allowed coffee.