I got it good
Look, we all feel low.
Every one of us has days where the world rubs our nose in the stench of failure all day long.
We all get fired and get dumped and tear ligaments and crap our pants and none of us look as good in the mirror as we used to.
Sometimes we don't get invited or included. Sometimes our feelings get hurt. Sometimes we like people and they don't like us back no matter how obvious it is that they should.
We all drop the easy touchdown pass, we all get overlooked for the big promotion in favor of the asshole, we all get stuck with the empty ice cube tray now and then.
Sometimes we get sick for two weeks straight. Sometimes the old lady busts our balls to the point where it almost becomes funny, but not quite. Sometimes money problems kick our ass.
And eventually, we all get nailed by tragedy. Or at least death. Somebody we love dies, or gets paralyzed, or goes to jail for ten years. It's inevitable.
Any of this stuff, especially when it comes in bunches, can make you want to cry, scream, give up, run away, or kill somebody. And in the past, when it happened to me, it always made me wonder: Do I have a right to get truly upset, do I have a right to feel sorry for myself, do I have a right to true frustration?
After all, there are kids in 3rd world countries starving, being raped, being murdered. There are folks down the block begging for a buck so they can eat dinner. There's your cousin Cathy who's 300 pounds, 45 years old, and has never had a date. So who the hell are you to feel sorry for yourself?
But then I thought about it rationally: if it weren't for our ability to embrace our frustration for what it is rather than viewing it in a larger context, we'd all go out of our minds. Life is good sometimes, then it punches you in the back of the head, then it's OK, then it karate kicks you in the nuts. Obviously every human has a right to react to these changes, to feel down when things don't go his or her way, to get depressed and pissed off and to let out a loud "FUUUUCK!" as soon as the boss is out of earshot.
Makes total sense.
But then I was watching a talk show and there was a girl in the audience who had submitted a piece of art to the show because she was such a fan of the host. It was like a scrapbook or something and they gave her a little shoutout. They cut to her...she was in a wheelchair and she looked to be about 18 years old but she might also have been 12. She couldn't have been more than 3 feet tall. Big thick glasses. I don't know what her particular disability/handicap was but whatever it was it was serious as hell. Life had been cruel to her since the moment she took her first breath.
And if you saw the smile on this girl's face, the sincere thrill she was feeling, how lost she was in the joy of this moment, it would have broken your heart. She was like, "Fuck you God. I am going to rock and roll every day despite whatever you hit me with. Look at me motherfucker. I'm on top of the damn world."
I almost cried and I made a vow that for the next year, when work bullshit or any other negative crap threatens to alter my sense of cosmic tranquility, I am going to think of this heroic little girl and her total lack of self-pity and I am going to buck up.
Really, if you have a home, and you have a nightstand with a book on it, and you get to lay in bed every night reading in comfort and then you wake up in the morning and walk around on your own two feet and you have no terminal illness, and you have nobody in your family about to croak, and you have a friend you can meet at the bar every now and then, and a cheeseburger has passed your lips in the last 30 days...then you've got it all.
Here is a handy guide for legitimate sources of personal grief. You need at least one of group A and one of group B to qualify.
Group A:
1. you are dying or dead
2. you or someone you love is crippled/disabled/all fucked up physically
3. you have just lost a loved one or are in the process of losing one
4. you have recently been assaulted
5. you are starving/broke/wondering how you're gonna eat or pay rent
6. you are in real and immediate danger of somebody killing you or kicking your ass
7. nobody in the world likes you
8. something else completely obvious I've overlooked
Group B:
1. you have no nightstand
If you qualify, go ahead and feel sorry for yourself, and allow me to express my sympathy. Otherwise, shut up and get back to work.
BONUS: 22 GP's for anyone who can tell me how many times I hackishly employed the Rule of Three in this lame post.
Every one of us has days where the world rubs our nose in the stench of failure all day long.
We all get fired and get dumped and tear ligaments and crap our pants and none of us look as good in the mirror as we used to.
Sometimes we don't get invited or included. Sometimes our feelings get hurt. Sometimes we like people and they don't like us back no matter how obvious it is that they should.
We all drop the easy touchdown pass, we all get overlooked for the big promotion in favor of the asshole, we all get stuck with the empty ice cube tray now and then.
Sometimes we get sick for two weeks straight. Sometimes the old lady busts our balls to the point where it almost becomes funny, but not quite. Sometimes money problems kick our ass.
And eventually, we all get nailed by tragedy. Or at least death. Somebody we love dies, or gets paralyzed, or goes to jail for ten years. It's inevitable.
Any of this stuff, especially when it comes in bunches, can make you want to cry, scream, give up, run away, or kill somebody. And in the past, when it happened to me, it always made me wonder: Do I have a right to get truly upset, do I have a right to feel sorry for myself, do I have a right to true frustration?
After all, there are kids in 3rd world countries starving, being raped, being murdered. There are folks down the block begging for a buck so they can eat dinner. There's your cousin Cathy who's 300 pounds, 45 years old, and has never had a date. So who the hell are you to feel sorry for yourself?
But then I thought about it rationally: if it weren't for our ability to embrace our frustration for what it is rather than viewing it in a larger context, we'd all go out of our minds. Life is good sometimes, then it punches you in the back of the head, then it's OK, then it karate kicks you in the nuts. Obviously every human has a right to react to these changes, to feel down when things don't go his or her way, to get depressed and pissed off and to let out a loud "FUUUUCK!" as soon as the boss is out of earshot.
Makes total sense.
But then I was watching a talk show and there was a girl in the audience who had submitted a piece of art to the show because she was such a fan of the host. It was like a scrapbook or something and they gave her a little shoutout. They cut to her...she was in a wheelchair and she looked to be about 18 years old but she might also have been 12. She couldn't have been more than 3 feet tall. Big thick glasses. I don't know what her particular disability/handicap was but whatever it was it was serious as hell. Life had been cruel to her since the moment she took her first breath.
And if you saw the smile on this girl's face, the sincere thrill she was feeling, how lost she was in the joy of this moment, it would have broken your heart. She was like, "Fuck you God. I am going to rock and roll every day despite whatever you hit me with. Look at me motherfucker. I'm on top of the damn world."
I almost cried and I made a vow that for the next year, when work bullshit or any other negative crap threatens to alter my sense of cosmic tranquility, I am going to think of this heroic little girl and her total lack of self-pity and I am going to buck up.
Really, if you have a home, and you have a nightstand with a book on it, and you get to lay in bed every night reading in comfort and then you wake up in the morning and walk around on your own two feet and you have no terminal illness, and you have nobody in your family about to croak, and you have a friend you can meet at the bar every now and then, and a cheeseburger has passed your lips in the last 30 days...then you've got it all.
Here is a handy guide for legitimate sources of personal grief. You need at least one of group A and one of group B to qualify.
Group A:
1. you are dying or dead
2. you or someone you love is crippled/disabled/all fucked up physically
3. you have just lost a loved one or are in the process of losing one
4. you have recently been assaulted
5. you are starving/broke/wondering how you're gonna eat or pay rent
6. you are in real and immediate danger of somebody killing you or kicking your ass
7. nobody in the world likes you
8. something else completely obvious I've overlooked
Group B:
1. you have no nightstand
If you qualify, go ahead and feel sorry for yourself, and allow me to express my sympathy. Otherwise, shut up and get back to work.
BONUS: 22 GP's for anyone who can tell me how many times I hackishly employed the Rule of Three in this lame post.
Labels: self-pity
posted by hans q. bungle at 01:08
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