Sunday, February 7, 2010

Personal Quirks and Oddities

Sometimes I get tired of thinking & writing about "heavy" stuff. Maybe that's why I would never make a good politician, as I simply can't live political stuff 24/7/365. Today is one of those days, and while part of me would love nothing better than to talk about the "Tea Baggers", the rest of my is simply too tired to even consider it.

Tired. I am rather tired at the moment. My legs are killing me, and it was extremely difficult to get in my workout at the gym this afternoon. I guess I should be glad that I got it in anyway, but still I am paying for it at the moment. At least my right arm isn't feeling too bad today. Man, getting old isn't all it's cracked up to be. The fact that I tend to be always on the move during the day and I that I don't sleep enough (either in quantity or quality) probably doesn't help all that much.

Okay, I've now written two paragraphs, and about what? That I'm old and creaky? Cue Christian Bale saying

"Good for yooouuuuu".

So what I am really thinking? Well while not at front of mind, I have been thinking a lot lately about how I have this perception of walking on this very narrow pipe of sanity. Maybe that sounds horribly dramatic, but note that I said "pipe" and not "tightrope". You know, it's like that Stealer's Wheel song, "Stuck in the Middle with You"...

Clowns to the left of me
Jokers to the right

...except it's not clowns or jokers that are on either side of my pipe. Now before I say anything else, I don't want to imply that my existence is in any way worse than that of anyone else, because it's not. In fact I'm a privileged human being, having a relatively healthy (all be it creaky) body, a healthily imaginative mind, and marvelous children. I also live in the greatest country of in the world, a place where anyone can be anything.

Clue "God Bless America" (by Kate Smith).

Anyway, I've always found that I walk this fine line of sanity. I have more than enough parental genetic predisposition (from both sides) to probably file my disability claim now, but I've never been one for taking the easy way out anyway. Besides, rather than giving me an excuse to wallow in the mis-aligned neurons that most likely inhabit my head, the stresses of sanity have instead been this irresistible source of motivation to me. In a way it's my grand, life-long, on-going "F__k You!" statement to the universe. As that great American poet and crack-head Bobby Brown once said...

...that's my prerogative

...and he was right. There is absolutely nothing I can do about, for example, the history of alcohol abuse that seems about as common to my genetic code as blue eyes are in the DNA of most Swedes. But I've chosen to simply not drink. There is nothing I can do about, for example, the cynicism and negativity that resides to this day in my family, but I can chosen to wake up every day as early as I can and attack the day like it's my last. Maybe it will be, but hell, I'm going to go on my feet.

In the end it all comes down to this: the tension that has existed with me for all these years has been the one thing that has not only helped me keep my sanity, but it has helped me grow as a person.

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