Something Stupid
Dangerous Reader! When was the last time you stopped yourself from doing something stupid?
You know what I mean. You’re balling the jack down the highway at 81 m.p.h. and “something”…..certainly not conscious reasoning, not intellectual analysis for Gawd’s sake ——more like a twinge in your gut—-causes you to lift you foot off the accelerator, slow down to 67 and . . .
BOOM!
A half mile later you pass a State Trooper. You just saved yourself a $300 ticket.
Or…… you stop yourself before you eat the ENTIRE peach pie which saves you from two days of bloating, three days of carbohydrates fermenting in your gut, and, yes, Dangerous Reader, four days of gas, baby, gas.
Or….. you stop yourself from losing your temper at the customer service person, and end up actually receiving a full refund.
Or…..you stop yourself from having the second drink at the boss’s party and therefore do not end up rolling around under the table with the guest of honor.
Or…..you stop yourself from cutting bangs and looking like really a frightful knockoff of Jennifer Lawrence in Don’t Look Up for the next five months.
When was the last time you stopped yourself from doing something stupid?
I just got word! You can still take me to the beach!
One woman
One president
Three bucks
Wait— you mean I could STOP myself???
Whoa. Now I have to rethink the whole freaking UNIVERSE!
I am not great at stopping myself from doing stupid things, but I do try to learn from them, or even better, laugh at my stupidity. Just last week, I stepped out of my little baby smart car(it has so much on me intellectually) in an open lot and one leg out it kept moving until a ram into the closest vehicle stopped it. Fortunately both vehicles suffered barely perceptible damage, and the other vehicle’s owner, who, I of course waited for, because I am not an asshole, was an absolute doll. This was not my first dumb moment of my day as just minutes before I had to reschedule my eye exam due to my arriving twenty minutes late, and since I apologized and accepted full responsibility for that blunder (again, not a fucking asshole), I felt no shame in heading back to ask their staff if they would please reinsert the lens that knocked out of glasses upon impact so I could put them back on my bloody bleeding face. The staff was happy to help. So I guess there is a bit of a moral here, although you may be prone to stupidity, not being a fucking asshole will eventually soothe your way to a better day.