Good lord n’ butter, I have had too much on my plate lately. I have a pretty big plate, too. I think a person’s plate size is determined by how accountable they hold themselves, and I tend to hold myself (and those I am close to) very accountable. People who smoke lots of weed or consider video games a way of life are generally just given a spoon or a napkin and can’t be depended upon for much.

I used to have a problem with turning my cell phone off when I didn’t want to be bothered, because I thought I might miss an important call. I found a good cure for that affliction is to get a bigger cell phone, which I did after I retired my old one. I don’t even have it with me half the time now, and I don’t miss it. When I have it with me, it sits there all bulky and stupid in my pocket, and rings when I am carrying groceries or performing a splinterectomy so someone can ask me what time I am going to be somewhere. I don’t need that. I have a similar problem with accepting side jobs. I can’t seem to say no when someone offers me money (or even appreciation) to design, build, and/or draw something. As a result, I now have backorders of portraits to draw, updates on websites, and crap to build in addition to the stuff I actually need to be doing, like studying for my commercial written exam, working on an ad campaign for my “real job”, and getting the exercise that will keep me from dying of a stress-related heart condition.

Last night on the way back in from taking the garbage out (we went to see “Gigli”, and took a romantic stroll through the park), I looked above my door, and saw a big spider web. A small praying mantis walked into it and was getting pretty tangled up as he tried to get out. Then a moth, attracted by the light from my apartment, flew in next to the praying mantis, and I’m all thinking, “Damn, I am looking at the home of the luckiest spider in the universe.”

Then the praying mantis went all still, even as the spider was starting to check him out. Mr. Mantis then snatched up the moth, who had been entangled in the same web, and started eating him.

Talk about showing some serious scrotal contents in the face of adversity. Kind of like saying “Suck it, captain spiderpants. You may have the upper hand here, but I’m eating your moth. Bitch.” He chewed on the moth, and then started taking a swing at the spider with his free spiky arm thing when he got too close. I was dumbfounded. I was watching the John Wayne of the insect world fight for all that is good and just. I could hear the National Anthem playing softly on the breeze…

So my mind is racing with all of these metaphors and parallels between the spider representing money, or time, or big tobacco, and the web is another symbol for oppression or being too busy or something else. But I knew I wanted the part of the praying mantis to be played by me, because not only do I look good in green, I hope that I can fight with that kind of ferocity and snatch happiness (played by a small brown moth, who wasn’t really happy due to most of his head having been eaten) from whatever situation I find myself in. When in a room full of horseshit, try to find the horse, as my dad says.

I’m pretty sure that when I am lying in a gutter somewhere taking my last breath, I won’t be wishing I had spent more time at the office. I’m also pretty sure that I won’t ever really enjoy being told what to do all of the time. If I wanted that, I’d get married. I’m not sure at all that I would be happy without some level of stress in my life. Without that, you can’t appreciate the time you spend grilling a steak, talking to mom and dad, or flying.

I need a massive dose of moderation.

I also need the award for “paradox of the day”.

Here’s my plan- I am going to work my junk off like I usually do all week, but I will set aside one, maybe two days on the weekend in which I will plan absolutely nothing, and do whatever I want when I want. If I want to sleep until noon and fish the rest of the day, I will. If I want to paint a picture of a baboon, I’ll do that. If I feel like resurfacing the countertops and cleaning the temporal residue off of my space/time conveyor, then so be it. That way, no matter what bag of crap slams me in the face all week, I’ll have a good end to it and something to look forward to next week. This is to be my masterpiece.

After thinking about all of this, I went inside and now find myself sitting in front of my keyboard wondering what I just wrote. It makes sense to me for some reason.

Did I rescue the praying mantis from the spider web?

No.

Dipshit should have watched where he was going.

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