Josh And Failure Vs. The World: Day 16

Here’s how I failed today:

In spite of the fact that I have high cholesterol, I ate a rice krispy treat and egg rolls. In other words, in spite of the fact that I had high cholesterol, I ate [insert anything that might bring me a moment of joy in an otherwise bleak and desolate existence].

Oh, right, and I also had two pieces of chocolate. Failure addendum.

I didn’t get up on stage – my goal is to get up every night. I was covering for someone else – but could I have been more insistent? Guinan (from Star Trek: The Next Generation, for those of you who “have social lives” or whatever) says there’s an art to knowing when to be selfish. Should I have been more selfish today? I don’t know the answer to this question.

I don’t even know how to proceed after asking myself this question. Am I failing at really living my life? Am I not doing what I should be doing? On the other hand, how much control do I have over that?

I love when people tell me “Josh, you should get a girlfriend.” Sure thing! I’ll just pop on over to the girlfriend store. I hope they’re open after nine.

But, conversely, is it ultimately THAT EASY to get a girlfriend? Is it hard because it is hard, or because I make it hard? I can’t decide if we have no control over our lives, or if we have TOTAL control over our lives. I’m not sure which is worse – oh, wait, I am sure – both are equally bad. Either I am a helpless victim or an incompetent twit who refuses to take responsibility. If I’m not careful, this will turn into a blog about depression – oh wait…

So maybe the homework is to be 5% more selfish this week?

Better yet – the homework is this: everything is easy. Can everything be easy for the next week?

Great. Love it. At the very least, it will be easy to be 5% more selfish.

Josh and Failure vs the World: Day 16

Here’s how I failed today:

I told some people I was more depressed than I currently am. I don’t like advertising those points in my life when I’m not depressed, because it just feels like I’m asking the universe to try me. If Odysseus had kept his mouth shut instead of mouthing off to Poseidon, it wouldn’t have taken him all those years to get home. You never mouth off to Poseidon. The God of the ocean is not to be trifled with. If you really want to mouth off to a God, mouth off to the God of ponds. What’s he going to do? Swallow your bird feeder (and now I’m legitimately terrified that I have pissed off the God of ponds. I’m not sure what His name is, but if it was Jim, the God of Ponds, I wouldn’t be surprised).

I failed to eat healthy. I ordered a veggie taco at a trendy taco bar, which means that I ate a salty and delicious sauce and a salty and delicious tortilla that was almost spoiled by the vegetables. Oh, and I had three rice krispy treats. Or was it four. Might have been ten.

I failed to have more compassion for the homeless people I walk past every day. I’m afraid to make eye contact with them because if I do, then they might start talking to me. And why would that be a bad thing? My fear is that they would not stop talking to me. Glad to see I’m making this about me. I once offered a homeless woman some money, and then, every time I walked past her, she asked me for money. After awhile, I stopped giving it to her. So now I feel guilty about that – note to self – consider writing a blog about guilt. There will be no end of material.

I failed to stop talking over people – I’ve been noticing this quite a bit – I start talking before people finish what they’re saying. Aside from the fact that what they’re saying is meaningless drivel that causes my ears pain, what I’m doing is rude. I want to experiment with waiting for the person to stop talking, and then pausing in the hopes that they will listen to what they just said and maybe retract some of it.

Robert Anderson found that he had been shot in the stomach. Fortunately, it is the year 2045, and humanity has become more humane.

“Congratulations,” the bullet, lodged in Robert’s stomach, said. “You’ve been shot by the Excelsior Bullet. The world’s first intelligent bullet. Judging from the impact and the damage, I calculate that you have five minutes to live. Would you like me to call an ambulance for you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Just one moment while I look up the number. While I’m in here, would you like me to check your cholesterol?”

“Just call the ambulance, please.”

“Sure thing! The ambulance will be on its way shortly.”

“How long?”

“Six minutes.”

“You just said I had five minutes to live.”

“So… do you have a religious preference?”

“I’m undecided.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not one of my religious options.”

“I guess I’ll go with Judaism.”

“You have selected ‘Judaism.’ Look what you’ve done! You should be ashamed of yourself! You bring shame to the family!”

“You know your stuff.”

“Looks like you’re down to three minutes. Would you like to get a weather update?”

“I don’t really care at this point.”

“Is there anybody you’d like me to call?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you have any last words?”

“I just want the world to know that when I said I hated the Han Solo movie, it’s not because of the lead guy’s acting. It’s more to do with the concept and the main character’s arc.”

“Understood. I will transmit your message to the proper authorities. Would you like me to pretend to tell you that you’re going to a better place?”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d hate to put you in that kind of position.”

“Very kind of you. And let me just say, on behalf of the Excelsior corporation, it’s been a pleasure killing you.”

“No problem.”

I’m failing at keeping up with this blog – why? Because I don’t want to face the reality of my situation: that I’m the one getting in my own way. Fortunately, of all the blogs to fail at, the failure blog is the one on which I should fail – I’m not thrilled with that last sentence. I struggled with stand-up all week, and then yesterday, things went better because I just told the truth. So I’m finding a direct correlation between failure and lying. I was told by a clairvoyant that I lie to myself. So I’m focused, this week, on telling the truth to myself. And telling the truth to everyone else. So this is the week I lose all my friends.

So what’s the truth? The truth is I’m afraid of failure to the point that I’m not doing what I want to do. And what do I want to do? This.

ANXIETY

James Nathanson was the kind of reporter who wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions or do what was needed to get the story. He was well built and physically fit, he didn’t have major food allergies, and women stayed with him longer than they should on account of his rugged charm and good looks.

Naturally, this kind of a person would have no problem breaking into the top secret laboratory and stumbling across an alien symbiote that quickly bonded itself to James.

“God… this is amazing. I can actually feel myself able to digest cheese,” a voice inside James said.

“Who said that? Who’s there?”

“I’m really proud of myself for taking the initiative and infecting you. Normally, I’d ask permission. I’m really living outside of my comfort zone today.”

“What’s happening to me?”

“You’re beginning to feel what I feel. We’re bonding.”

“What are you?”

“I’m an alien. I’m from a planet where all parking is permit parking only. It’s a nightmare. My life was going nowhere – I was a copyeditor, but I really wanted to be a novelist.”

“Get out of my body.”

“Listen, I have a lot to offer you. You have a ton of masculine confidence and a tendency towards letting your rage get away from you. I can teach you to hold all that in and die inside while staying in a job that gives you health insurance.”

At that moment, six police officers barged into James’ apartment.

“What’s going on here?”

“You’re under arrest for theft of corporation property.”

“Looks like it’s time for me to go to work,” the symbiote said. At once, James started to cry. “Please don’t. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Calm down,” the officer said.

“I feel totally unfulfilled in my life. I can’t find a meaningful relationship. I’m getting older – and I can feel my body starting to degrade…”

James began transforming in front of the cop’s eyes, growing smaller and smaller. Somehow, out of nowhere, glasses appeared on his face. “This is exactly what I was afraid was going to happen. It’s probably because I’m not drinking enough milk. But the problem is, I’m lactose intolerant, so I should be taking those calcium supplements, but what will that accomplish? I tried that for years, and nothing happened.”

“Wow,” the police officer said. “I think I’ll be able to handle this on my own. Sorry guys, I thought I was going to need backup. You’d better come with me, sir.”

“Are you a Dr. Who fan? Please tell me you are. I just want to talk to somebody about Dr. Who.”

The police officer shook his head. “What are you?”

“We… are… Anxiety.”

Josh and Failure Vs. The World – Day 11

I had a terrible day yesterday – none of the jokes I had come up with worked. And I felt like the biggest failure on earth – so this is great news for this blog.

I was writing about depression, and I am depressed today, but I don’t want to focus on that. I want to focus on failure instead, because I’m trying to be more positive.

Failure and depression are related. If I had had a tremendous open mic yesterday, I would probably feel a lot better today – I would feel a little better today – you know, I might be just as bad, now that I think about it. No, I’d be a little better today – but very little.

I was also told by a clairvoyant that I should do the following:
Move
Travel more
Write more jokes about my childhood
Trust people more.

And she said that I shouldn’t be afraid to ask the universe for signs.

So I am asking for the following signs:

what about my childhood should I focus on?
Before I travel more, can you please send money (cash or check is fine)
When you say “trust people,” you mean don’t bother them with your neuroses and take what they say at face value like a moron, right?
When you say “move,” you’re not talking about exercising, right?

My question is how subtle are these signs? I’m not good at reading subtle signs. Can the signs be emailed to me and include specific dates, times, and locations? That would be great, thanks!

When I thought about my childhood, the first place I went to was my parents – now I could sit here and write several jokes making fun of them, but I just don’t feel like doing that. I’d rather make fun of myself and leave these poor bastards alone. They’ve suffered enough.

Follow up question – if I’m supposed to be doing jokes about my childhood, and I watched a lot of Thundercats when I was a child, can I theoretically write jokes about Thundercats? Because that would be my preference at this point in time. I could write ten minutes on Panthro alone!

But to the point of this – the failure on my part last night – I’m in a period right now where I just don’t feel funny. Naturally this happens to me because the clairvoyant told me to use the mantra “I deserve to be a comedian,” and my neuroses said “oh, we’ll see about that” and I proceeded to have one of the worst sets in recent memory.

I did let myself cry a little bit afterwards – too bad I’m not still a theatre major – I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. If I ever have to cry onstage in a play, all I have to do to get ready is go do an open mic. It’ll be a terrible open mic, but it’ll lead to a Tony.