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.
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.
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.
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.