When Things Go Too Well, I get VERY Anxious.


Have you ever felt disheartened by the fact that things don’t seem to be in crisis?

I do, quite frequently. There is a Jim’s Big Ego song, Stress, and it has some very poignant lyrics to me:

“I’m Addicted to stress
that’s the way that i get things done
if I’m not under pressure then i sleep too long
and i hang around like a bum
i think I’m going nowhere and that makes me nervous”

I suppose that a shrink would tell me that I have some sort of fear of success, but I’d rather just say it’s a finely honed instinct based on an entire lifetime of making the crucially wrong decision at exactly the right time. It’s a purely subconscious ability to collapse everything around me with one little gesture that really just keeps me growing and evolving as a person.

Contentment is the enemy of success.

This is something that I think most of us are well aware of intellectually, but have a very hard time understanding emotionally. I mean it’s obvious to see the benefits that never settling has given to some people in this world, and yet, when you are content, you can delude yourself into believing that you’re happy.

When my wisdom teeth grew in, they jumped in and out of my gum line so fast that I couldn’t possibly keep them clean if I brushed them continuously.  When they finally came in fully, I had an abscessed tooth like you would not believe. It is probably the most painful thing I have ever experienced, and I’ve sat through the entire Matrix Trilogy in one go. The pain was ridiculous, and since I had no dental insurance (and still don’t, actually) I chose the righteous and manly path of suffering through it for all of eternity. The pain was blinding at times, but I soldiered on merrily. After almost a year of the intense, mind breaking pain constantly flaring from my swollen, horrid jaw, the tooth shattered and released the abscess.

It was a euphoric moment.

Being without pain was damn near orgasmic.

I had lived so long with my jaw hurting that I had forgotten what life without being in constant unbelievable pain was. I had gotten used to the pain and become numb to it. I was even functional.

That’s what contentment is, I think.

It’s the moment in your life when you’ve grown numb to the pain of doing the same stupid, meaningless things day in and day out. It’s the time right before euphoria and joy.

I think that we’re meant to keep going along this way. After all, the world wouldn’t work well if we were all genius business guys, trudging along through life, never settling for “Good Enough.”

The world needs someone to settle on flipping burgers at 2:00 AM, or else, I’d never be able to sneak a McDouble and ruin my diet.

If I didn’t do that every so often, I’d probably loose some weight, and then were would I find my self loathing?

Without that, what would make me a deep, interesting individual?


We can’t blame a lack of insurance on our reason to settle with the pains of living on in life. As far as I’m aware there is no “boring, mundane existence” insurance, and if there is, I’m sure the premiums are too damn high. That means we create artificial barriers for ourselves. We convince ourselves that we can’t possibly do better than what we are doing right now, so why bother.

I’ve been facing that place for a while.

I blame you guys. You amazing, amazing people. Those of you who read this and spread my stupid, self centered words out into the world.


Because I’ve convinced myself that no one would ever read the insane, rambling thoughts of a crazy, fat kid from Missouri.

I convinced myself that no one would care.

You’ve proved me wrong in that, and I am thankful, eternally.

So naturally, my mind puts up the next roadblock.

Surely, no one beyond the amazing people I’ve already found in my life will come here and read my insane ranting. Surely, this is the highest I will ever rise and I should just go out on top.




I’m not going to do that though.


I’ve never been good at knowing when to quit while I’m ahead. I just keep beating the dead horse until it turns itself into glue, and then I take it home to meet my family even though it’s obvious that the horse is going to eventually accuse me of trying to convince it of killing itself on Facebook.


Sorry, that was a hypocritical, passive aggressive statement.


For the record, I have never tried to convince anyone to kill themselves. It just seems to be a conclusion they come to on their own after they sleep with me. (I probably shouldn’t have put that last part, there’s a roughly 13% chance my mom will read this.)


It’s a recurring thing for me.


Where was I?


Oh yes, the long haul up the steep mountain.


Don’t worry, I brought some sunscreen.



Oh, and as a reward for reading this incredibly necessary, therapeutic and possibly extremely confusing little diatribe, I have drawn for you a Snowman cannibalizing and Ice Cream Cone.



It’s even carrot flavored! BWA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


Now, for those of you naughty kids who skipped to the end to see the Snowibal, you should feel guilty for stealing the reward from the good kids, and feel obligated to go back and read every last word.