Misery loves Privacy BFG’s

Last week, I said I was taking care of important business, so I just had to give my blog the average amount of attention. That was because I was dropping my daughter off to college. It was important for me to do so, because she is now attending my alma mater. Which according to Wikipedia means “the person in a restaurant who oversees the waitpersons and busboys, and who typically handles reservations”. Wait, maybe that is the Maitre d…? Either way, she is going to college where I went to college. The reason it was so important for me to drop her off there was because, well, I’m a legend there.

Because I am a legend there, there were autographs that needed to be signed, speeches I needed to make, and professors that needed to hunt me down for my still missing homework. My inspirational speeches included how and what shenanigans a student must pursue, how schoolwork and classes must be avoided at all costs, and what to do with all the attention you might get like I did. I talked about the trouble I got into, like the time that I had this Marauder’s Map that I used to find my way around the dungeons. I also talked about “The Incident” that got me a lifetime ban from the college.

I did manage to squeeze in a little time for my daughter, because she is so selfish sometimes and wants to make everything about her (not sure where she got that toxic trait. Probably her mother.) I got some fans to bring my daughter’s things up to her apartment (because I was busy with autographs) and to visit the grocery store (mostly for my fans there, but we did manage to get her some food). I really did want to go to the parent orientation, because a lot of the parents knew of my legendary exploits either because they were there when I was or had sent their kids sent there specifically so they could meet me. It was an exhausting trip for sure, because fans are really draining and don’t seem to understand when to stop. But a legend’s time to himself is never valuable to others.

Speaking of my time at the college, during my freshman year, I started dating this girl who was in one of my classes. I was quite enamored with her, and she was equally not enamored with me. I was used to that because in high school, I apparently wore girl repellent and they never wanted to have anything to do with me. She called me late one night and broke up with me. For some reason, I was really upset about a girl I had dated for two weeks.

The next morning, my dormmates heard about the Great Break and tried to wake me up to go play some basketball. I wasn’t in the mood for basketball or anything else for that matter. They insisted that I wake up and I insisted that I not. They insisted one more time, and I woke up, and yelled at them and threw my pillow at them. They didn’t insist anymore.

There is an old expression that comes from the 16th century that says, “Misery loves company.” I’m calling bullcrap on the expression and am currently in the middle of some legislation with Congress to get that expression changed. Misery does not love company. Misery loves privacy.

I did not want company that day. I did not want company in my way. I did not want Green Eggs and Ham.

I did not want people in my room. I did not want people to help me gloom. I didn’t want people in the hall. I did want other people to fall.

When I am miserable, I want to suffer in silence.

Most of my best suffering happens because of people. I’m not good at math, logic or reasoning, but when some person causes suffering, it doesn’t make sense for other people to be around to cause more suffering.

For instance, if I were to get cut from the basketball team, I would not make my solution to the rejection going to basketball practice in order to get over my rejection from basketball.

If I just got a call from someone telling me that they didn’t hire me for a job, I wouldn’t then go to that company and hang around the employees that worked there.

People trying to help just makes things worse. You don’t hear about tigers telling their friends when a tigress breaks up with them to, “Just dust this off,” or a fish telling their friends, “There are other humans on the land,” or penguins telling their friends, “Just jump back into the dating pool.” Humans suck at advice. I’ve heard advice from people my whole life and so far, zero of it has helped. Every time I’ve ever succeeded, it’s because of my own advice from myself. That’s why I became a legend in college.

Misery wants privacy. Misery wants revenge. Misery wants a movie written about it. Misery requires a blog post about it. The only thing misery does not want is company.

Speaking of misery, here are some Bitter Friday Giftures to help you feel Friday misery…

This Misery has…

…no company.

No one wants…

…a sponge around when they are miserable.

Misery is enjoyed so much better…

…when no one is around.

As you can tell…

…being around people is misery.

Other people just…

…make it worse.

How was company?…

…it was torture.

When it sucks…

…who wants company?

The suck meter starts in the green when no one is around…

…and turns red when company tries to help.

Whenever someone tries to help…

…it just makes it worse.

There’s other fish in the sea…

…oh gooood…

Just get up…

…and dust yourself off.

And jump back in…

…into the dating pool.

I would give you advice on how you should always enjoy your misery responsibly, and never be around other people when you are miserable, but that advice only works for me. But why would you ever want to listen to someone else’s advice? It just leads to more misery and then people will want to be around you and give you more advice, which would lead to more misery, which would….

ARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH

Bitter Misery Loves Privacy Ben

11 thoughts on “Misery loves Privacy BFG’s

  1. Ha! The dating pool is filled with piranhas, sharks, and bottom-feeders. Anyone who tells other people to jump back into that mess is sadistic. 😐

    Like

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