Perseverance is a funny word.
Basically, it means don’t quit. Ever. Even if you’re bleeding, broken and without a shred of hope. Keep going.
But isn’t it hard? I mean, be honest with yourself. It sucks when you work…and work…and work…
And then watch someone 10 years your junior climb right to the top.
THE. HELL.
It frustrates the shit out of me…and I know I’m not alone. Don’t you get tired of climbing that same damn hill over and over?
I think half the problem is the conscience. It’s always all, “risks are stupid.”
Well, to all those little Jiminy Cricket’s out there: FUCK. OFF.
My cricket’s name is Babs, by the way.
And Babs, I’m going to do it my way from now on, beg, borrow or steal. I don’t need you on my shoulder all, “But, that’s not the safe way…that’s probably a bad idea…”
Babs: But…why take a chance, dumbass?
Me: Because I can.
Babs: I totally advise against such rash decisions.
Me: Oh…it’s not rash. It’s calculated. It’s with complete forethought.
Babs: Really?…You? Forethought?
Me: Ummm. Yes. If I think about it even two seconds before it happens, it counts.
Babs: You really are stupid.
Me: Actually, I think it’s the smartest thing I’ve done.
Babs: Reallly?…
Me: Ignoring you? Yes. So freeing…
Babs: …and do you recall what happened the last time?
Me: I’ve blocked it from my memory. Getting lost in my own neighborhood?…Allowing the ex-boyfriend to take my keys and subsequently get my car stolen?…no, those never happened. It was all just a bad dream. You said so yourself.
Babs: That was more like a lesson…as in: “remember this like a bad dream so you don’t do it again.”
Me: Well, you probably should have adjusted your approach…something like, “remember this like getting your arm ripped off by a velociraptor.” Now that, right there, would have been a good thing to say. Cause who wants to go through THAT twice?
Babs: And where in reality would THAT happen?
Me: Jurassic Park, Babs. It’s totally real. Where’ve you been?
Babs: Cleaning up your mess, asshole.
Me: Really, Babs? We have to resort to name calling? I thought you were supposed to be the all-knowing-voice-of-reason.
Babs: It is impossible to reason with an asshole.
Me: You know, Babs, you’re totally right. Asshole’s don’t have a brain.
Babs: ….
Me: See? You should’ve listened to me in the beginning, then you wouldn’t be all pissy.
Babs: Listened to WHAT, exactly? Your babbling nonesense?
Me: No, the part where I said I was ignoring you. Had you just shut the hell up, we wouldn’t be fighting.
Babs: We’re not fighting. I just hate you.
Me: That’s really not very nice, Babs.
Babs: Since when have I been nice?
Me: Since always, Babs. You don’t really have a choice. No one listens to a conscience if they’re all bitchy and mean. You’d get fired. And then you’d be out of a job, holding up a cardboard sign all, “I have the answers.”
Babs: I have a choice.
Me: Technically, you’re inside MY brain, so no, you don’t have a choice.
Babs: I quit.
Me: That’s perfect, Babs! You disappearing is way better than my attempt at ignoring you.
Babs: Enjoy your life as an asshole.
Me: Oh, I will, Babs. I will.
Babs: WTF? Who the hell is this?!
Me: Oh, her? That’s my security net – aka my subconscious – just incase you ever SERIOUSLY decided you were going to quit. Totally brilliant, I know.
Babs: WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Me: Her name’s Moxie.
Babs: WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Me: I think I just heard Moxie say that name calling wasn’t nice. And that quitting as a conscience was totally a bad move.
Babs: …
Actually, this explains a lot.
Hi Babs!
Hi Moxie!
Are either of you guest blogging soon?
I hate having to talk with my inner-self. We can never agree on anything. We usually end up throwing things.
All three of me are laughing hysterically….Only other people around me don’t quite get what is going on especially when we all come out when I am driving to work and get into a shouting match, that is always fun!
I think my conscience is named “motherfucker.”
Babs can go slumming with my conscience. I cast her off years ago. Last I heard she was panhandling and looking to land a job with Amy Winehouse… her conscience threw in the towel years ago.
if my conscious doesn’t have a name does it mean it doesn’t exist?
franzi
“We’re not fighting, I just hate you.” Classic.
Can Babs do magic like Mab? If so, watch out…she’s a little meany.
I think we all have a “Babs”. I call mine my daemon, out of tribute to The Golden Compass.
oh!!! you are brilliant!!
i’ve been having these talks too…
moxie sounds rockin’!!!
Thank You!
Cheers, Tally Ho, And Bon Voyage…..
Yes! For the love of God and all that is holy, yes! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve missed opportunities because of “reason”.
I’ll tell you what the hell reason is: FEAR. Damn cricket probably never had a day of fun and more than a penny in his pocket! Pinocchio is a LIE!
Wait… Where am I? I think I just had a NaNo induced brain spasm. But yes, take the risks and if you fail, eh. Get up and try again!
I’m worried about you. Your conscience’s a bitch. =)
Mindy
http://www.thesuburbanlife.com
Not sure which was funnier, the post or the comments! LOL
My Husband is always telling people (while pointing at his head), “There’s 3 of me in here, ‘me’, ‘myself’, and ‘I’, and 2 of those fuckers are constantly fighting!”. Worse yet, every once in a while, one of those fuckers will vacation in MY head. That’s where my bad ideas come from!
That Babs sure does ask all of the tough questions but seriously if you got bored with Booshy you could always write another one on the views of Babs the cricket
I put my conscience in a shoebox under my bed. It’s kept company by the scruples and morals that also reside there. I take them out and look at them from time to time like “shiny…wow.” and then shrug and put them back.
♥Spot
Excuse me, Miss
Miss
It IS you,