A great friend pointed out to me that I seem to do this every new year. I carry over my bah humbug into a post-new year dysphoria that I can only express through sarcasm and open disgust. Apparently, it's like an annual period. I get unholy mean and intolerant every January.
Maybe it's because I've made my resolutions to improve my health while every other jerk on the planet has decided to throw himself headlong into a fried Twinkie. I've committed to being more community minded while every other ass is testifying before Congress that it's every (wo)man for herself in our neat-o domestic, post-apocalyptic arms race. Maybe I've decided to reduce my carbon footprint while there are a bazillion people choking on chunks of air in China. Maybe I claim the 6 weeks before I give up on all of my resolutions as my time to be superior and condescending to the whole rest of humanity. Suck on this, people.
OK, so maybe I didn't make all those resolutions. I mean, I sorta want to do those things, but let's be honest, I'm old and lazy so it's unlikely that unless recycling services come to take the non-compostable chips bag and Coke Zero can from my napping hands, my carbon footprint isn't shrinking. I am trying to be healthier, but that's only because I'm vain and want to be skinny. Maybe the reason I'm so hard on everybody else is that I'm filled with a depressing and miserable self loathing.
Maybe it's my own jaded soul. Last night, I was speaking with a mom who (awesomely) has found a great opportunity to go back to work. She really found something she's interested in, made it meet her criteria for being home a lot with her kids, and she is rediscovering the working world of grown ups. I thought, wow, I should totally get on that. She's so energized and enthusiastic. I'm so filled with inertia and malaise. I thought, hey, maybe she's doing something interesting to me, too...financial planning??
I CAN NOT think of a worse field for me (well, except physicist, chemist, astronaut, firefighter, police officer, CEO, CFO, anything with "C" in front of it, priest, pilot, masseuse, anything involving tact or drug tests, and/or interacting with the public in any setting.)
Here's is my financial planning survey:
Are you a deity, god, goddess, demigod, mythical deity or superhero?
If no, answer next question:
Have you currently or ever engaged in a pact with a devil, demon, gnome, troll, elf, US Senator, or other creature that has promised you immortality in exchange for something valuable, say, a soul or your vote?
If no to both questions: Screw it. You are going to die. When you will die, exactly, is merely a matter of happenstance, genetics, environmental factors and possibly karma. You plan, God laughs.
If yes to either question, awesome.
So, in short, my fellow humans, I need to come to terms with the bad ones among you trying to wreck my short, meaningless existence. If you don't care about me, fine. I can take it. Please stop screwing up my kids' planet. They're going to need it one day.
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