I’ve been working hard to fuck up my life for years, and it’s about time I got some damn credit.
Today I was talking with a friend of mine, who we’ll call “Dash”, because that’s his name. I guess I don’t need the quotation marks. Just call him Dash. Anyway, me and “Dash” (same guy as Dash, no quotes), were lamenting about how I don’t get enough credit for all the stupid crap I do. Well, it was mostly me lamenting. He was humoring me, at best. Really just tolerating me, and really he just barely did that. OK, actually he argued with me for a minute. Then I was like “go to hell”, then he left, left in defeat, saying, “I’m willing to help you but you have to admit you have a problem,” in defeat. So I won that battle. I'm the bigger man.
The point is, since about 4th grade on, I’ve been steadily making sure I didn’t advance my life in any of the traditional ways by making a mockery of all the obligations that the 21st century American is expected to fulfill - work, school, relationships - and I’m pretty self-righteous about it too. You have to be. Otherwise I’d just look really pathetic, and I don’t want to face that. If there’s one obligation every American should fulfill, it’s to be totally obstinate and a dick.
This will the be the log of all the things I do to assure that I sink deeper and deeper into failurehood.
For instance, thing #1: Talking to Dash instead of doing work. That was a good 45 minutes spent coming up with hypothetical Halloween costumes. Result - I will be a banana with a mustache and Dash will be a hot dog with a mustache. It skirts the line of creepiness just enough that none of my supervisors will ever be sure I’m not a kid-toucher. I work with kids. My work for the day is done.