Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Lisette, Part 1

And when he pushed her out of the way that first time, was he conscious then of how his choice would change not only the course of her life, but of his own life? If you could even call his existence a life. Upon reflection, he knows he intellectually understood the cause and effect reaction that promoting a soul would set into motion, but in that moment, as his emotions rose for the first time in more than two centuries, his intellect was paralyzed.

From his place beside the outdoor ashtray near the laundromat door, he watched the dark lashes of her brown eyes flutter and then lift as she opened her eyes wide in astonishment. A vaguely familiar looking man in the parking lot aimed a hand gun at her mother demanding to know where her mother's husband was. As her mother stammered about not having a husband, Lisette interrupted,

"Are you talking about Bruce?"

The man adjusted the gun's aim, pointing it at Lisette.

Monday, November 23, 2015

Me, Myself, and I

Me: I lost two pounds.

Other Me: Did you do it on purpose?

Me: Kind of...?

Other Me: Okay then...

Me: Well, I've been trying to lose weight over the past few weeks, but haven't been very successful because I love shit food. Long story short--I got astoundingly and unbelievably drunk, uncovered repressed feelings, vomited, had a very productive session with my psychologist, and then barely ate anything for two days. I still feel the lingering pukey feeling of an on-coming panic attack, but I also feel like I might be on the brink of figuring something out.

Other Me: Hmm.

Me: Yeah, I know. It's a lot. It's a lot for me too. I for real think I really did make progress with the psychologist, because he let me keep talking all the way up to the end of the hour instead of stopping me at 45 minutes so he can have time to take notes. And he said he thinks I'm funny, but that I often use my humor to "deflect." He's pretty funny too. When I told him I think that everyone struggles with feeling like a total useless piece of shit while simultaneously feeling like they are the greatest person ever and should probably be worshiped, he said that is not true. He said, "Babies aren't born saying, 'I'm such a piece of shit baby.' They get that way because of the way they've been treated by others." I laughed with complete abandon, because not only was that certainly going to be the quote of the day (which I told him), but he also got into character to say it. Please keep in mind that he talks exactly like Ben Stein.

Other Me: The eye drop commercial guy?

Me: Yes.

Other Me: I don't think I'd like that.

Me: You know, I wouldn't have thought I'd like it either, but he's very good.

Other Me: That's good

Me: Yeah. So anyway, I came to the conclusion that my stellar work ethic in combination with my mental problems do not make a happy marriage with a corporate career. Which made me think, "Oh my god now I have to find a different job!" but I've been thinking, like I always do, and have realized maybe I just cannot make my job my career. Like Brendan Burchard says in his book, The Motivation Manifesto, "...our busywork consumes our day but it is not our life's work." Thus, with Pablo's full support I am going to start writing. He told me I can write whatever I want, which it seems I shouldn't really have to be told, but I'm a bit odd.

Other Me: That's great! I think you have lots of interesting things to say! And it's awesome that Pablo is so supportive!

Me: It really is. He also cooks for me.