Oh, Grow Up!

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I’ll go and I’ll see her and I’ll feel all that anguish all over again and for weeks thereafter. So much anguish over someone I know all wrong. She’ll be there—at some point she’ll be there—and she’ll go wild and I won’t be able to wait to want to leave. But because she’s far away, and busy, maybe she’ll be late. And if she’s late, it won’t be so bad for me to leave. I’d feel bad if I had to leave early. Like Bio-Dud often liked to say, “Firey, you need to suffer more,” unless it was, “Firey, you haven’t suffered enough.” So I do my best. I do the best a “snot-nosed spoiled brat,” as Step-Dude likes to say, can do. And it’s true, as a confirmed “snot-nosed spoiled brat,” I do do a lousy job of suffering. If I really, really, really, wanted to suffer, I’d join the military and fight in Afghanistan—and not only because “war is hell.” Setting aside the war, Afghanistan is hot, and I can’t take the heat. Anyway, everything is too late. Why can’t I ever be on time for anything? I don’t mean for appointments as much as I mean for opportunities. Why can’t I get just one damn thing straight? 

21 April 2007

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