It doesn't take much for my Stimulometer, the -ometer that measures stimuli, to start red-lining. I'm either hyperobservant, a snob, oversensitive, hungover, or all of the above. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes I really want to wear earplugs throughout my day. I hear a lot of insipid blather, and not the fun kind that makes you think "ooh, a conversation about, like, Mark's party. Exactly what I need right now and later."
My brain runs almost all the time. And lately I'm trying to communicate more openly. Not just in being forthcoming and non-judgmental and calm, but also honest about my emotions in the event that the emotions can make a difference one way or the other if they're brought up. Turns out...
they always can. Al. Ways.
So sometimes, when I want the world to shut up, I have to do so, first.
But the world here owes me nothing. I owe the planet quite a few things.
First off, I accidentally kicked a dude's chair last night while crossing my legs at the 9:10 of "KUNG FU PANDA," and I should have apologized for it. I didn't. I owe him one.
There's more, but for now... I just want quiet. I want peace. And quiet. In a bubble around me. I want no more questions about anything. I want to do what I have to go do, and not be asked what I'm doing, about to do, or just did. I need it. My brain needs to not be bothered by a question whose answer is not vital to the continued life of the asker. No, I don't need cracked pepper. Yes, I was next. No, that's not enough ice. Yes, really... I'd like the dressing ON THE SIDE.
I'm going now to drill a Valerian, go through old clothes until I get "Courtney Love in court" woozy, then climb into bed and put in my earplugs.
Hey World, seriously... help me out a little. Find out what "fiduciary" means elsewhere, I'm not your Wiki.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Geoff Lott: Comedian, Writer, Philosoteur. I am here to amuse you, not entertain you. If not now, later. If not you, somebody else. If you can't laugh at yourself, that's just fine, too. I will do it for you.
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
You are what you is
The other day a friend of mine was asking me a lot of questions about a bunch of goings-0n outside of my spheres. People I only kind-of knew, peripherally, were the topic.
What were they up to? Where were they working? Why didn't they ever come by? Did they not like (my friend)? Did (my friend) do something to piss 'em off?
Eventually I had to ask, "Don't you think you're being a little paranoid?"
His response?
"Why? Did somebody say something?"
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Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
What were they up to? Where were they working? Why didn't they ever come by? Did they not like (my friend)? Did (my friend) do something to piss 'em off?
Eventually I had to ask, "Don't you think you're being a little paranoid?"
His response?
"Why? Did somebody say something?"
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Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
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