Epiphany: The Best of Chaka Khan
I know you're going to be surprised, but I figured some stuff out today.
Let me take a second here to gather my thoughts, smoke a cigarette, and listen to this break one more time.
Today, I figured out how things get taken for granted. I figured out where all of my anger comes from. And, I figured out a way to be happy for a little while longer.
Happy for a little while longer
This morning on my first break, I was outside enjoying the sun I hadn't felt in days, and I was looking at the hills, out past the freeway. [The train didn't come today, which is probably why I had this thought. Trains distract me because I always want to know what's on them.]
So, I'm smoking, I take note that I'm not coughing, and that makes me smile. Then, I thought..
You know what? All of my life is mine. Even if it's total and complete shit, it's still mine, and I get to keep it as long as I'm alive.
I think as long as I hold on to that thought for a while, I'll be okay.
This is all mine. This whole thing, all of these years, all of these thoughts, and my fingers! They're mine! So are my shoes, and my chapped nose, and my scruffy voice, and this cup of coffee I'm drinking. These guitars are playing for me. It feels good to be happy.
Anger: My last motivation
Right before I left work, an email was sent out telling us that we were required to work an hour of over time on December 30th. I was pretty upset, but I bit my tongue until I got outside. Kristin and I were walking to our cars, and I said, "God. Did you get that email?"
"The one about the over time?"
"Yeah. What the fuck? You can't force someone to work through their lunch. I mean, COME. ON. There are laws. This shit would not fly in any other state."
"Well. I kinda need the money, so I don't mind."
"You know, if I could find someone that was a little more anti-establishment, I would be out of here. I just need a push."
Sometimes, I say shit that I don't mean. I'm not anti-establishment. But, damn. It sounded cool.
When I got home, I was trying to figure out why I get so angry about stuff like that. I wondered if I had been asked nicely if I would have done it, and truthfully, I wouldn't have. Then I thought, why am I so ungrateful? Why can't I just be glad I even have a job? Why can't I settle?
It came to me: Entitlement.
I feel entitled to a job I love, a new car, a nice home, true love, happiness, fairness, equality... I feel like I'm owed these things. I feel like I've earned them just by the fact that I've lived for 26.5 years.
Naturally, what follows upon lack of receipt of the goods is anger. I become blinded by the fact that I don't have these things, I get pissed at people who have the things I don't. Basically, I walk around throwing a tantrum because life just isn't going my fucking goddamned way.
And really, who in the fuck am I? Just another whining twenty-something looking to score, looking to make it big by sitting on my ass, consumed with myself.
I haven't quite worked out all the details in this, but I think this is a giant start.
I am taken for granted
During my thinking about why I'm angry about everything, I realized I take my life for granted. I assume I'm going to wake up in the morning, and go to work, and go home, and go to bed. I take my job for granted.
Why? Because I don't want them.
I don't want this life, nor do I want my job. I want to be a bazillionaire and I want to paint all day.
When you don't want something, all you can think about is how to get rid of it, or change it, or hide from it.
Rarely do you pick it up and give it a kiss.
In Conclusion
I'd like to pick everything up and give it a kiss today. Because my brain works. It lets me see things, and hear things, and feel things. It lets me figure things out, so I can feel better because then, I feel super smart.
I'd like to tell the balls of cat fur roaming around my bathroom floor that I love them, because without them, my life would be cat hairless.
And to my dirty, dirty car... I'd like to promise you a bath someday because I love you too.
And to everyone that happens to grace this, I love you. Yes. Even you. Because your brain works, and you can read, even if it's just barely, and maybe you thought a little bit, and that's good too. And you can forgive every single run-on sentence, and you made it this far.
Man. DayQuil really is like crack.