Like a Shitty Car and My Formely Busted Ankle

Several days ago I publicly reported that I was on the verge of tip top mental health. I'm afraid the claim was premature if not completely false. Just as my formely broken ankle will never be 100% again, the same is true for my emotional mental health. You might say I have a slight emotional limp. Not a big deal, I've learned to live with five titanium pins in my ankle accompanied by a slight yet constant pain. I'm sure I can learn to live with a slow gnawing pain in my soul.

It's no big deal. So, I frequently get so sad I rather not live. Yeah, at times my mind obsesses with the one or two things not going well in my life that I fail to see how fortunate I am. Whoop-dee-do, I become distraught by unreciprocated affection (affection I never explicityly expressed myself) that I have great need to move far away like to Thailand or San Franscisco, thereby, uprooting not just my life, but also the life of my marvelous boyfriend Jack. I figure if I have adjusted to not being able to position my left foot to throw a straighforward kick anymore than the issues listed above should be a snap to adjust to.

Why waste energy trying to fix that part of me when I can just accept who I am and plan accordingly? Kind of like a traveling salesman who drives a car that only gets 13 miles a gallon and the tank only holds seven gallons of gas. The salesman knows he has to leave earlier than other salespeople to reach a client because enroute he'll constantly have to stop to fill up his car. He also knows he'll have to secure that many more accounts to pay for all the gas his trusty steed guzzles. Some might say he could change his car. Trade it in for a more fuel efficient model. Perhaps, tinker with the car he has to make it more fuel efficient. But let's face it people, those two suggestions are ludicrious. What person or dealership would trade fuel efficient car for our salesman's car? And with all the extra money he has to spend on gas how could he possibly save enough to buy a new car? As for tinkering with the one he already owns, he's a salesman, if he had skills like fixing up cars I'm sure that's what he would be doing for a living instead of travelling around trying to sell people crap they don't need.

In conclusion I accept my self and make allowances for my short comings as the salesman accepts his car with a 7 gallon gas tank and I'm much happier for it.


Remember Eastwood's great line: "It's not the years, it's the mileage"?

Pay for the mileage. It's worth it.
rachael said…
Joshua, thanks for the suggestion. However, it wasn't Clint Eastwood who uttered those words but Harrison Ford as Indian Jones in Radiers of the Lost Ark.

I don't know where that leads me in paying for mileage, but at least we have our movie trivia straight.