Re: Even My Problems Have Problems
Maybe in space, no on can hear you scream, but in an upscale shopping mall, they certainly can. And they frown upon it. And if you do it too often, Security hustles you right off the property, and they don't seem to care one whit whether they spill your nine dollar grande half-caf caramel macchiato either.
Regardless, I have reached the stunning realization that I am not alone.
By this I mean that not only am I not the only one to be burdened with the weight of a million suns, but also that the burden I carry is itself not alone. It took a long time to realize it, but eventually I discovered that even my problems have problems.
The first clue was those heavy sighs I heard--or thought I heard just on the fringes of perception--often in the wee hours of the night. Yet, even after I'd finished weeing, oftentimes I still thought I'd heard something. And soon those sighs grew so frequent that I could no longer ignore them. That, and they grew so forceful that they kept knocking the eyeglasses off my face.
As it turns out, the monkey on my back has a monkey on his back--who in turn has another on his own.
And then there are the banana peels.
I mean, I know they have problems and everything, but why do they just toss those banana peels willy-nilly anywhere they please? Would it kill them just to hold onto them until the next time I went near a trash can? Would it? Recently, I've had more banana peel pratfalls than a barrel of Three Stooges shorts.
In the meantime, they say that admitting that you have a problem is the first step in overcoming it. Okay. I know I have problems. I just wish they would admit they do, too.