There comes a time in a sequence of unfortunate events when one becomes first ragingly furious, followed by hysterically amused. Do you know what I’m talking about? A series of terrible things happen to you, and when the Last Straw hits you like a grand piano, you have to just give up and giggle maniacally?

I reached that state of mind today.

I was finally in a place of acceptance after this weekend’s carnage. I’m still in pain, but I finally was moving on, at least emotionally – I was even a little excited for what’s in store after accepting the challenge of Operation Rad Bod.

Today, that went down the toilet and here I am laughing at life’s sheer ridiculosity.

I can’t really talk about what happened for reasons of Doocery, but I don’t think it’s any secret that the corporate world does not exist for anyone’s benefit except the big players, is it? I’m sorry if I offend the staunchly Darwinian Capitalists, but no one is looking out for the little guy and it pisses me off sometimes.

So I filled up my cup of minty hot cocoa and sat down to blog about it, darkly laughing at the irony of the WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN happening on the tail of such a crappy weekend.

The joke’s on you, universe! The writer always has the last laugh, because words linger in print forever!

I was angry at first, but the thing about getting angry is it’s only worth getting angry at something that can hurt you. I’m not invested in this enough for it to hurt. It just adds fuel to the fire of my dissatisfaction; it extends the list of why I must write – to save myself.

What am I saving myself from, exactly?

A life of misery.

A life where I don’t do what I know down in my bones I was meant to do.

A life not utilizing my gifts.

A life of regret.

Wasting time, this precious life entrusted to me.

I’m skirting the issue to avoid getting in trouble, but I think you get the idea.

I guess part of me is angry about being treated poorly, about the plight of the American worker who must kiss ass and lick the dirt because employment is so scarce and this world is cutthroat. Being raised in a world where everything was possible if you went to college and followed the rules, I was in for a rude awakening upon exiting the ivory towers of the intellectually elite. There was no golden future set out for those who excelled at the path society provided for them.

So I’m done following rules set for me by people who do not have my best interest at heart, who only plundered and looked out for themselves instead of caring for the world, its inhabitants, and investing in the future. This wasteland I and others of my generation inherited? I want to leave it better than I found it, and I am unable to do it within the parameters of what is expected of me.

Sometimes the world is ugly and unfair, and the only weapon I have against it?

Laughter. Even of the maniacal variety.

At least now I’m feeling better.


Laughing Maniacally When You Aren’t Quite Crazy Enough for Arson — 6 Comments

  1. My two favorite parts of this post: ridiculosity and minty hot cocoa.

    Sometimes it takes getting really mad to realize the sucky truth about some things and that’s when I believe you really find out what you’re made of.

    I worry about hurting feelings, disappointing others, and generally letting others down and tend to absorb a whole lot of crap at work (when I worked outside my house). It took me having the worst day possible, to where I honestly had no energy left to care about ANYTHING, for me to walk in and address a difficult (for me) situation at work. Then is wasn’t even as bad as I thought it would be, but I had to be GONE pissed off and just done before I could do it without caring as much as I tend to. My point? Use this fire/hysteria to fuel your creativity and ambition to succeed in something you love.

  2. Pingback: The Cat Lady's day off. Not to be confused with Ferris Bueller. - The Cat Lady Sings

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