If you’ve been paying attention (and why would you pay him? did he babysit for you? Do your taxes?) to my blog at all in the last several days, you know it was my birthday on Saturday. So at work, along with another work citizen, we celebrated our birthdays. It was festive day where I worked really hard answering phones once again, but to make it really special they got me a fuzzy card that looks like one of those annoying Sesame Street characters. They also like to get us plants, which makes me bitter because they know I don’t like plants and I let them die. Any idea what they got me? A cactus. The plant equivalent of me. So you know what I did? I brought it home. And you know what it did to me when I picked it up from my back seat? What every cactus does to anyone that comes near. It stung me.
Do you know what the sting did to me? It made me cranky and bitter. And do you know what that did to my family? Made them cranky and bitter too. So you could say by me having a birthday on Saturday caused my whole family to have a bitter day yesterday. But..that is way too shortsided for the bitterfly effect. The Bitterfly Effect not only finds a way to assign blame on something other than you and your decisions, it also goes way back to some other person or thing way that has no way of defending themselves.
For instance, you might say it was the birthday, but I dig much deeper. I say there would have been no birthday 43 years ago, if my parents never met. And my parents never would have met if it wasn’t for that softball game and that softball game wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Bobby being a failed baseball player in the minor leagues and the minor leagues wouldn’t have been so appealing to chumps like Bobby if Babe Ruth hadn’t called that shot in the World Series and made being an arrogant dbag such an appealing thing for men of the world. So I blame Babe Ruth for my bitter day yesterday.
A couple of weeks ago, I found myself in quite a predicament. I woke up early in my son’s room and accidentally locked myself in. Because of this, at four in the morning, I had to use my brain and figure a way out. It could have tried to find something to jimmy the door open, or knocked on the wall of my daughter’s room and had her open it up, but I try not to wake people up at four in the morning. So I did the only sensible thing I could think of and I opened the window to the freezing cold, took out the screen door, and jumped three stories to my death…or three feet to the ground. I can’t remember which. The heroic leap didn’t go with out consequence. I landed on a root, which caused a little gash in my foot. It started bleeding, and it got all kinds of splints of root in there. Obviously, none of this was my fault. It was the Bitterfly Effect.
Who is to blame here? Paul Bunyan obviously. “Paul Bunyan and Babe left their mark on many areas. Some people say they were responsible for creating Puget Sound in the western state of Washington. Others say Paul Bunyan and Babe cleared the trees from the states of North Dakota and South Dakota. They prepared this area for farming.” (Taken straight from the internet.)
If it weren’t for Paul Bunyan and Babe clearing all the trees in South Dakota and making it so boring, then I might never have had to move away to live in the Puget Sound in Washington. And if I hadn’t moved here, where there was a house near enough to trees just outside my window(which he easily could have chopped down with his might axe) then I never would have landed on a root and hurt my foot. Dang it Paul Bunyan and your ox Babe, who Babe Ruth was named after by the way.
If it wasn’t for you two, none of those two problems would have happened. So I think we’ve learned our lesson here, right? One, don’t ever blame yourself for anything. The Bitterfly Effect won’t stand for it. And two, most problems are rooted with Paul Bunyan and his ox, because they didn’t cut down enough trees. And three, don’t ever feel bad for any mistakes or the absurd lengths you have to go to to blame others for them.
Bitter Fly Effect Ben