Ben's Bitter Blog

Dangling that Bitter Carrot

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How to wake up.

There is probably some sort of reason why I get up at 5:30 in the morning, fall asleep in the shower, put some clothes on, shave this freaking face, get in a car, hop on the train with like a billion people that give me bitter stares, get off the train and walk like 15 miles (or a quarter mile. I’m not so good at distance measuring.) to the school, then sleep through class, just so I can come home at 7 pm. There must be some sort of carrot at the end of the stick right?

Follow me to hard work with carrots as a reward!

I think the thing at the end of the stick is the carrot. And the carrot at the end of the stick is a job. Wow. Really? A job? That’s why I’m doing this? Crap. So essentially, I’m going to school and doing all kinds of homework, just so I can get a job and do office work? Maybe I need to stop chasing carrots and start asking for the carrots to be pizza. We all know carrots are disgusting, right? Unless there is some sort of ranch or marinara sauce, or the carrots are cut up and dipped in butter and chives, carrots are the worst. As opposed to pizza which is delicious and zesty and cheesy and crusty and just the right amount of bitterness to go along with all it’s pepperonian meatiness.

People in general do way too much work for carrots. For instance, what have I done in my life to get a girl? I’ve pretended to like soap operas, I’ve spent way more money than I’ve ever earned, I’ve pretended to like some of their friends who were complete psychopaths, and I’ve watched movies that people couldn’t have paid me a million dollars to watch if I wasn’t so enchanted by that particular woman at that particular time.

What about the sports carrot? I worked hundreds of hours on practicing, running drills, learning plays, watching boring video tape, and sacrificing hours and hours of couch time, TV time and video game time, just so I could sit on the bench of a game and get 1 minute of glory at the end of a game when even the cheerleaders and supportive parents have left. Now I’m left with bad knees, bad backs, cracks and bitterness for playing these so rewarding sports, that “helped my self-esteem” and helped me learn “about sacrificing for the team”. Yeah, sacrificing so my “team” could get all the girls and scholarships, while I worked hard to give them someone to beat up on at practice.

All this hard work for this one shining moment.

And how about the parent carrot? I got to listen to the little miscreants cry for the first two years about everything from “there’s not enough food to eat” to “I need to take a nap, but I’m too tired to go to sleep” to “I want that toy that costs a hundred dollars, but I will just throw it away and play with the box”. Though they were kind enough to sleep while I was at work, and then be sweet and playful and happy at 3 am, so I had some reason to be awake at every single hour of the day(thus completing my goals of seeing every hour).

I’m tired of chasing the carrots. I’m not getting off the couch for anything but pepperoni pizza from now on. So unless you are telling me the couch is being moved into a mansion or the job is pillow tester, you know where to find me.

Now it’s your turn. What carrots have people been using against you? What carrots are you tired of chasing only to get ones that have just been dug up from the dirt?

ARRRRGGGGHHHH

Bitter Pizza Motivated Ben

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