Okay, I’ve gone past the point of ridiculousness. (and it’s crazy that I spelled that word without looking it up. For reals)
This week I’ve written a couple of NPR-ish posts about the evils of the world that bug me. And today, while I was driving back from grabbing a salad at lunch (to deal with The Fat), it struck me - I really do need to get over myself.
The world truly seems to be going to hell. I could provide links, or a list, like I have. Want some highlights? Housing market. Economy. Jobs overseas. Clinton won’t shut up so McCain’s gonna win this bastard. Gas prices. Peak oil. Food shortages. Climate change. Endangered wildlife. Endangered sex life. Getting the wrong fucking Sweeney Todd in the mail. Ozone or not Ozone. Hurricane season. Our stupid government (all of them). (really). Whether a 270 pound forty-three year old man was ever meant to tie on a pair of shoes and go running. Whether my car will make it another year. Whether my paycheck will cover groceries and gas and still allow me to be an ass and go to the movies.
See? All that shit. Fuck that shit.
It just went under the bridge. Oh, there will be more. Lots more. It will keep coming. But I’m sick of being a dick and wallowing over shit that I cannot control. If I can improve something - I will. I will try. (I know, Yoda said “There is no try, only do,” but then he supervised the building of Darth Vader, didn’t he?)
The world isn’t ending. At least, that’s what I tell my kids. (”Dad, I think the sun’s going to explode.” “No, honey, not today at least.”)
Maybe I should start acting like I believe it, too.
