I’ll never build a house. Never fix a car, fly a jet, be a CEO, run a country or become the president of something (even if I’m the only survivor of the apocalypse, I will still only get elected vice president) nor will I do the counting of the votes for the accounting firm for the Oscars, or launch the space shuttle. When they say to dream big, they forget to say that you have to work hard for it and be good at mechanical things. But even more importantly, you have to plan to do all those things.
I’m not a planner. I never will be. I tried it once. Didn’t really take. The guys in my head in charge of planning, decide to go a vacation to Hawaii when I was young. They meticulously planned and plotted. Used excel and some math, did some statistical analysis to figure out the right time, place and conditions to break out. Though they didn’t need to do any of that, because the rest of my brain was so unorganized that they didn’t even notice that they were missing for 8 months. And by that time, the “organizies” had already stole all my organization skills and ran off to Hawaii never to be seen again. Not that I can blame them, because the leftovers are just a bunch of miniature minions running around without a leader to guide them.
Oh, we got some creative ideas, running back and forth between the left and right brain highway, but there is no stop light or traffic cops, so four way stops are a mess. And the freeway has signs, but no one ever reads them. The bitternet highway is either packed with cars running in the wrong direction causing accidents, or as empty as my pizza box is 10 minutes after I get it.
There is no stand up comedian telling his jokes on this stage. That would require someone to write jokes in advance. And someone that wanted to stand. There’s comedy in there somewhere, but it is of the sit down, or better yet, lay down variety. And there is only improv in there. One that plays off a straight person that doesn’t understand sarcasm.
I’ve made attempts to bring the organizies back. Tried to write down inspirationally bitter speeches to people about how to follow their bitterness to achieve their greatest nightmares. I’ve tried prepping lessons for occasions when people wanted me to teach them something. I’ve planned short stand up routines for girls to impress them enough to want to go on a date with me. I’ve tried to plan what to say to a boss when they really pissed me off about something, or wanted to get a raise, but the problem is always the other people. They never respond like the robot version of them my head thinks they will. People are unpredictable, and every time I’ve pictured the universal praise, the standing ovations, and the declarations of “Why have you waited so long to ask me out’s?” have always failed. Planning just never works out. So I just learned to improvise.
For instance, the blog posts that I spend the most time with, plan in advance, make lists for, check twice, make sure they are naughty and not nice, always get a resounding meh. But the last minute, “I have to slap something together because my boss is coming and I need to get back to work ones” somehow are the ones that get, “Genius level bitterness, Bitter Ben. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” And this was about a post I did on socks, because they were bothering me that day.
Speaking of which, I just realized that today is St. Patrick’s Day. And that’s bad, because I don’t see any rainbows around, and really need one, because I forget my lunch money and a few pieces of gold should fetch me a sandwich. And today was supposed to be some cowboy day at work, because one of our VP’s is “riding off into the sunset” IE retiring but I forgot my cowboy hat. Guess I will just have to improvise and use a western cowboy accent. Cause that’s the way we disorganized fools run things.
Speaking of running things (into the ground) that’s my cue, to ramble on about other things that are not important. Does anyone have something green I can wear? Cause I forgot to wear green, but don’t worry, I will improvise and find something that is green and attach it to my head, or find some not so clever thing to tell people when they ask why I’m not wearing green. And scene. ACTING! Day at the Improv!
Bitter Using a Pen to Poke open a hole because there is no knife nearby Ben