Saturday, February 18, 2012
Help Wanted
I'm sure it's not completely clear from my posts on here or anything, but I have a little bit of a tendency towards the compulsive. When I see things that aren't completely the way I think they ought to be, I tend to try to "fix" them, even if it makes people want to smack me. For example, I have on more than one occasion explained to an innocent bystander the difference between the uses of "less" and "fewer." It is difficult for me to avoid providing fashion advice to random passersby. And I am the worst back seat driver in perhaps all of history. I just can't help telling people if they have the right of way or if it looks like that guy over there might be about to pull out in front of the car on his bike. In short, I am an absolute pleasure to be around at all times.
Anyway, all of this is occurring to me today because I happen to have a bit less on my agenda this weekend than I had planned, and it is making me absolutely crazy. Rather than actually enjoying life for five minutes by taking a walk or watching TV or something, I am making up projects for myself to work on. First there was the shredding project, whereby I disposed of all the old bank statements and bills I've been saving for years for no reason at all. Then there was the closet project, during which I reorganized my pants and sweaters by color. And next I think I shall alphabetize my CDs, since they're so likely to be flying off my shelves now that they've all been uploaded to my iPhone.
So yes, clearly I need help. But I've decided that all of this is somehow endearing, so the rest of the world needs to just step the hell into line behind it.
I'm sure it's not completely clear from my posts on here or anything, but I have a little bit of a tendency towards the compulsive. When I see things that aren't completely the way I think they ought to be, I tend to try to "fix" them, even if it makes people want to smack me. For example, I have on more than one occasion explained to an innocent bystander the difference between the uses of "less" and "fewer." It is difficult for me to avoid providing fashion advice to random passersby. And I am the worst back seat driver in perhaps all of history. I just can't help telling people if they have the right of way or if it looks like that guy over there might be about to pull out in front of the car on his bike. In short, I am an absolute pleasure to be around at all times.
Anyway, all of this is occurring to me today because I happen to have a bit less on my agenda this weekend than I had planned, and it is making me absolutely crazy. Rather than actually enjoying life for five minutes by taking a walk or watching TV or something, I am making up projects for myself to work on. First there was the shredding project, whereby I disposed of all the old bank statements and bills I've been saving for years for no reason at all. Then there was the closet project, during which I reorganized my pants and sweaters by color. And next I think I shall alphabetize my CDs, since they're so likely to be flying off my shelves now that they've all been uploaded to my iPhone.
So yes, clearly I need help. But I've decided that all of this is somehow endearing, so the rest of the world needs to just step the hell into line behind it.
