Switcheroo

Friday morning, after my behavior, attitude and outlook had put my wife in a really bad mood, and before she left for work, something happened.

I said, “You know. It really sucks when you’re so angry and you’re about to step out the door and go directly to work. That’s the absolute worst, isn’t it?”

If looks could kill. That look made my blood run so cold it’s still not back up to room temperature yet.

Then she threw down the gauntlet.

She said, “I’m sick of your bullshit, Tom. Everyone hates their jobs. No one wants to live through that, then go read a blog about someone else hating their job, too. It might be mildly funny for a post or two, but then it just gets sad and really sucks. I have to hear you talk about it when it happens. Then you talk about it when you’re writing about it. Then I have to read about it. Then you quiz me to see if I’ve read it. Then you talk about it for a few more days.”

“This can’t continue,” she added.

I had to admit she had a point. But if I eliminate work as a topic, what then? It’s not like I can write a lot of interesting blog entries about coming home and staring hours on end at four bare walls. I don’t know. Maybe I should try that. It may very well be more interesting. Welcome to the all new Four Bare Walls Blog. Our inaugural post: “Walls are merely limited sections of infinite planes.” Ooh. That sounds exciting to me.

And so, without further ado, here is today’s post. I was already struggling for an idea while staring at those four bare walls to come up with something – anything! – for this post. Now the level of difficulty has really been ratcheted up. We all know that I’m a sucker for dares.

Challenge accepted…

Due to my commitment to quality you'll never guess that I made this graph myself. Waka waka.

Have you ever sat around and thought to yourself, “I wonder if I’m insane?”

That’s usually the moment when some pompous jerk comes along and says, “If you have the ability to ask yourself that question, that probably proves you are saner than the rest of us!”

God, I hate that asshole. And how the fuck is he reading my thoughts? So I kick him in the nards. Then some other asshole comes along and tells me that the first guy never existed and my foot is now stuck in a wall.

Damn, you can’t trust anyone these days.

But, yeah, I do wonder about my sanity quite a bit. Thinking about it this morning I came to a bit of a realization. If you spend about 80% of your counting your own marbles you just might have a problem on your hands.

It’s not that I’m paranoid. I know for a fact that everyone is out to get me. So I’m naturally a bit defensive. As an atheist I enjoy feeling the forces of evolution working within me. Someone approaches from around the corner? It is safer to assume they are an enemy than a friend. And that’s pure evolution, baby. Those who tended towards optimism in those situations tended to get eaten by saber-toothed cats more often so they didn’t pass on their genes.

See? A propensity towards negativity is healthy and may even save your life.

This is kinda sorta part one. Part two, if it ever exists might come later. Or not.