Archive for May 3rd, 2011
You Believe I Believe Nothing (Incorrectly)
The folks at work don’t know The Other Me. I’m paid to be skeptical. People at work stay away from me. Most people think everyone is good. I’m paid to presume everyone is bad. When the sales folks say, “I know this guy; he’s fine,” I get my guns out because something is wrong.
In the end, of course, nearly all of our customers are good, but I am ready for every single one to go sour. You should know about some of the angels I’ve seen turn sour, and when they turn sour, they curdle and grab our money, cutting our profits, or more likely increasing our losses. Some people get away with this shit and it gets on my nerves because it only hurts all of the good folks. I can’t tell you why I’m sensitive about it, but I am, perhaps even passionate about it.
I’m so skeptical, most people stay away from me and only contact me as a last resort or if there is some procedure which requires contacting me. Most people think I don’t believe in humanity. I let them think that. They look at me funny and I grump at them, but as soon as they have difficulties with an Excel spreadsheet or an Access database, I am the nicest guy on earth and I feel as though my value quadruples. I love it when I can be a helpful human, but this only happens once every few months. One time, a goofball lady told me that I should be a teacher because I’m so good with talking about how things work, but she knows the work me. I sit at my desk all day and chant, “I know you’re lying; I know you’re stealing.” You wouldn’t want me as a teacher with that kind of skepticism.
When I’m away from work, The Other Me comes out to play. I believe anything and everything. Mr. Gullible. I think it is that way because I am tired and it is easier to believe things. I read novels and poetry when I’m away from work. I don’t ever remember reading something and thinking the author was lying to me. The characters love me and respect me and they keep me company as I do nothing at all but read. The books I read are more real world than my workplace.
So you see, away from work, I trust everyone and I believe the most beautiful things about humanity.
A while back, a guy from work came over to watch the hockey playoffs. We watched and he talked about world economics and politics and windmill farms. I remember thinking he was full of shit, but I felt as though I was acquiring a battery of new truths. These new truths might make me more conversational and more agreeable as a person. We watched several of the hockey players take violent hits to their bodies. My buddy from work told me that I could take abuse just like those hockey players. He convinced me to walk off the peak of the roof of my third story. He convinced me that I wouldn’t be hurt. I believed him. I believe everything.
I sit here in the hospital coming on my third month because he wasn’t right, but you know what? I believe every single visitor, every nurse, and every doctor, and I think I believe that there is not one rotten person in the whole hospital. I even believed the janitor when he said he would bring me a half gallon of Jack Daniels, which I needed desperately because they painkillers never worked.
When I get back to work, I’m going to nail some bad guys.
I am enjoying Inspiration Monday X. Go check out the contributions! There are some great writers over there.
Hidden in Building
We have zeal.
Raw beef slides.
Flat roofs kind.
Blood flows evenly, boiling,
spears sensitive skin.
Not Quite Mangled
I am deranged in a spectacular explosion of mess.
Have you thought deeply about that word, deranged?
It’s not necessarily all bad, is it?
I am deranged.
Despite this, I seem to have survived.
Never sure what part was not survived.
Sometimes, I sit and stare at anything.
I stare at everything and it all means nothing.
I am deranged.
I look all around me at all of the forms,
and I wonder why I’m here.