I am not a teenager anymore. I don’t go to school. I don’t have important things to carry around. I don’t go on extended hikes in the mountains so I can get lost and find my way out. Despite the fact that I am none of those things, I still carry around a backpack. I know I am a dork for doing so, but at least I am an efficient, bitter dork. Some people like to carry things with their hands or inside their brains, or in a tiny cell phone. I am too bitter to do that, so I carry things on the weakest part of my body. My back.
So why do I carry a backpack? (Or as my kids call it a packpack). Because a packpack carries things that I am too lazy to carry myself. For instance:
Jealousy. How else can I be jealous of celebrities for getting to order people around while paying them minimum wage, just so they can be in the mere presence of someone who has been in 7 terrible movies and 2 failed TV shows? How else can I be jealous of someone who makes way more money than me, so they have a house that they will be more in debt for and raise 2 more bratty kids with, and have 2 more high monthly car bills for a car that still break down? I am jealous of people with more creativity than me. I mean how creative do you have to be to combine a blanket with a hood and call it a Snuggie? Awesome. I am jealous of people that have more time than me. Did you know that some people get 8 days a week and 25 hours a day? Can you imagine what I would do with all that time? Couch. Sleep. Snuggy.
Anger. Anger is great. I love arguing with people about things that are so miniscule that by the end of a two hour argument, we both can’t remember why we were fighting. I love having such a red face that I could just apply a little more makeup and look like Bozo the Clown. I love yelling so much that afterwards I’m shaking like a scared Chihuahua. I love being so angry that my brain is about to burst open. Those sensations just make me feel alive.
In another section of my backpack of course I carry bitterness. There is bitterness for that game that Spurs played back in 2003 that they should have won, but Derek Fisher cheated and made a shot that should have taken 3 seconds but apparently only took .4 seconds. There is the bitterness I carry towards my parents for not giving me a tragic backstory, a requirment for being driven to suceed at all costs so that I could become wealthy, powerful and mean to mankind(one out three isn’t bad I guess). There is the bitterness in having to go to Sam’s Club tonight because I got a stupid nail in my rear tire that caused a flat.
In the last section of my backpack, there is a computer, a couple of magazines that have now ceased publication, some old paystubs, an old broken Ipod and an old Thesauraus that I never use because I don’t know what a Thesauraus is. Maybe I should look it up. What did you think, that my backpack was just filled with metaphors of emotion? Weirdos.
So actually backpacks are useless, and yet I carry one everywhere. You never know, someone might ask me how much sicktime I had in Jan 2013, or what my bitterk, tragic backstory is. But no one ever asks those things, so I just keep carrying around a thing that gives me back pain.
Makes me bitter.
Bitter Backpack Ben
- Candy bitterness (bensbitterblog.wordpress.com)
- Batman Backpack: in Case Utility Belts Are Not Your Thing (technabob.com)
- Bitter Quote of the Week – Shakespear (bensbitterblog.wordpress.com)
- Bitter song of the Week (bensbitterblog.wordpress.com)