I’m going on two weeks of solid Mondays, folks. LIFE SUCKS.
The stand-by guy? You wanted an update, I bet. Well, he came home ten days ago and I haven’t heard a word. Not an email, not a blip. That’s right, scuff of a lifetime, folks. I had a man that flew all the way around the world to stand me up. I am devastated. While the kindest part of me is hoping he is badly maimed or incarcerated, I’m wise to these signs. Early guesses: married, or better yet, an alcoholic. At least, I hope it’s him and not me.
Work is happening in nightmare quantities. Not all of it good, but pretty much. I keep busy, but my mind is not right. I am having hardcore steady conflict with my workwife. She is begging for a divorce. Lately, she likes to tell me that I just don’t seem happy. I am utterly disgusted with the irrational puppet world that might expect that anyone should be happy. It is a flawed fucking planet, people. Is anyone happy? Deep down and all the time?
I spend plenty of time happy. I am one funny individual and I crack myself up. Doesn’t mean I expect happy, not as my idle spot. I idle at reserved but trigger freaking happy. Do not even think of the surprise attack or I will murderize you. The thought of the whole recurring conversation makes me want to kick her teeth in. On second thought, maybe she’s right.
I simply have a lot of short lived stress in my life. It’s summertime, which means 24-7 kid care. My annual meeting, better known as Constipation Fest 15, is in one week. The Blown Eyed blogfest is in just over two weeks. And three days after that, we are going on a Disney cruise, just the boys and I. And all of that is awesome wonderful mcdreamy stuff, but a lot to work around, plan for and pay for, as well. So pardon fucking me if I don’t seem happy all the time.
Add to all of this, my air conditioning is dying in my car. Yes, my car is black. And yes, it is very hot in Texas, especially in a suit. Get two boys wrestling in the back seat and temperatures can easily break through the 120 degree level.
It’s funny the way things always seem to go together, though. I was reading this article over at Fox news today, and became so perplexed wondering who the heck would be protesting the democratic convention? Do any of you know? I thought all the usual lefty nutcake protestors would most assuredly be inside giving keynote addresses and setting the agenda items into motion. Just who would be protesting a gathering of embicillic protestors?
I was so thoroughly engrossed, flipping through the pages of my mental protestor database that I almost missed the whole point of the story. Some evil genius has created a weapon that makes you crap yourself! Not just created a shit yourself weapon, but it comes with a cute nickname as well, the brown note. Classic, I love this country.
But then it occurred to me, it seems someone has taken aim at my poor life with this newfangled technology. See, I’m not an unhappy person, my life is merely taking a dump. It’s all very natural, green even.
And now, you, my dear sweet reader, have stewed in my stench. Feel free to light a match in the comments.
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June 11th, 2008 at 12:55 am
Not only lighting a match, but pouring $50 worth of gas on the fire, and that’s not much. (not much, like this comment)
24/7 happiness is a crock of shit. I have found that I am usually happy 7% of the time. Well, maybe 40% of the time, because 33% of the time is spent sleeping (unless I’m not trying to sound like a complete dumbass) when I’m usually happy, or at least…
…sleeping.
Granted, I have never been married, and have no kids (that I know of). Not trying to preach or anything.
I have little pockets of happiness here and there. It’s mostly when I’m camping, fishing or playing music, but it can occur at any time. Shit, it’s happening right now! I can’t wait for this shindig! It’s just around the corner.
I would say about 60% of my time is spent being angry at the morons running this country. Pissed off at the complete morons that “the people” elect. Angry that I work with complete morons. Angry that our borders aren’t Militarized. Angry that Iran hasn’t been nuked yet, & pissed off that it’s not June 27th yet..
Don’t worry, there will be nothing but happiness in a couple weeks. I’m not an angry drunk. I’m a happy (or dumb) drunk. In a couple weeks, I’m going to be in one of those little pockets of happiness that keep me truckin’. Without them, I don’t know where I would be.
“So pardon fucking me if I don’t seem happy all the time.”
Sometimes it’s good to be angry! Keep your chin up and the beer cold.
Oh yeah, and Paul, I already know where you’re going with my “pockets of happiness” comment. Don’t blame it on me when Supergurl bans your ass for the hilarious vulgarity…
June 11th, 2008 at 8:23 am
So, I’ll take a shot at it…
Is that a happy in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? Yeah, sounds dumb to me too, but all I can come up with. Happy all the time? Pfft. Satisified with my life? Close. See you in 16 days and we’ll get our happy on!
June 11th, 2008 at 8:30 am
Nobody is happy all the time. Those that act that way are usually the most miserable. Most times I settle for content.
June 11th, 2008 at 8:40 am
As I told my kids many years ago..you have to have know extreme sadness to ever possibly recognize extreme happiness. Sometimes I think being happy is highly overrated..the question we should be asking ourselves is not are we happy with our lives but are we satisfied with our lives..
And just a bit more shithouse philosophy..we only need three things to survive..air, food and sufficient body heat..everything else is relative to that…
June 11th, 2008 at 9:24 am
I think Dennis Leary said it best, and I am not aiming this at you chica.
“I’m just not happy. I’m just not happy. I’m just not happy because my life didn’t turn out the way I thought it would.” Hey! Join the fucking club, ok!? I thought I was going to be the starting center fielder for the Boston Red Socks. Life sucks, get a fucking helmet, allright?! “I’m not happy. I’m not happy.” Nobody’s happy, ok!? Happiness comes in small doses folks. It’s a cigarette, or a chocolate cookie, or a five second orgasm. That’s it, ok! You cum, you eat the cookie, you smoke the butt, you go to sleep, you get up in the morning and go to fucking work, ok!? That is it! End of fucking list! “I’m just not happy.” Shut the fuck up, allright? That’s the name of my new book, “Shut the Fuck Up, by Doctor Denis Leary. A revolutionary new form of therapy.” I’m gonna have my patients come in. “Doctor, I..” “Shut the fuck up, next!” “I don’t feel so..” “Shut the fuck up, next!” “He made me feel so much better about myself, you know? He just told me to shut the fuck up and nobody had ever told me that before. I feel so much better now.” Whining fucking maggots.
June 11th, 2008 at 11:31 am
What you need, my dear, is a bit of mindless fun.
And since I won’t be there to contribute to that during the blogmeet, the least I can do is tag you with an effortless meme.
So I did.
It’s all about spreadin’ the love. In a disease free way, of course……..
June 11th, 2008 at 7:56 pm
“Pockets of Happiness?” Oh man you’ve got to be kidding me. Howza ’bout a pocket of “Cry me a fuckin’ river.” HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Cheers good buddy.
June 11th, 2008 at 9:09 pm
Hey Paul! I play the violin for no one. Not even myself, so you can take that “Howza ’bout a pocket of ‘Cry me a fuckin’ river”, put it in your pipe and smoke it!
Just don’t bogarT it!
Fucker..
June 16th, 2008 at 10:55 pm
I am such a happy person, as soon as I have Indiana in my rear-view mirror. The only place with more misery than Missouri. Just you wait till I get down there to Texas. I’m gonna be walking giddiness looking for a place to land. If there’s a sad sack in the bunch, I’m gonna slap a smile on ‘em. Damn it.
June 17th, 2008 at 4:13 pm
For me, the word to go with life is: TOUGH! It’s as tough to be happy as it is to be unhappy. Morning, noon, evening, night…it’s tough. Married, celibate, in-between…it’s tough. Rich, poor, in-between…it’s tough. With young, older, or without children…it’s tough! Too much peace is boring. Not enough peace is tiring. At any age, starting with crawling, maybe ending with crawling, as tall as I can stand in-between, I push forward as far as I can go. I can’t return. That’s the fun of it. Always something new waiting around the corner. With pain and tears, joy and laughter, or a long, intolerable hiatus… life is tough. I often want to groan. But, with a heart beating in my chest, I’m willing to take it. The alternative is dreadful…
June 24th, 2008 at 1:53 am
In just a few days, I can’t wait to see Supergurl launching into the Guadalupe in the form of a Cannon Ball. After a few drinks, of course…
Cannon-Ball-On!