November 11: Get a Grip, Questions, Control Freak, Passive Aggressive Vexer

Calm down, get a grip now . . . oh! this is an interesting sensation, what is it?  It's a sort of . . . yawning, tingling sensation in my . . . my . . . well, I suppose I'd better start finding names for things if I want to make any headway in what for the sake of what I shall call an argument I shall call the world, so let's call it my stomach.

These are some of the last thoughts of a sperm whale plummeting through the atmosphere of the planet Magrathea to its death.  In the space of a page-and-a-half, the whale goes through an entire lifetime of existential and philosophical questioning, from "who am I?" to "I wonder if it will be friends with me?"  The whale doesn't really have the time to find any definitive answers.  Its life is all about questions.

I sort of get this whale.  A lot.  I seem to bounce through my days with all kinds of questions in my head, and I don't ever seem to find any answers.  For instance, there's a particular person who's vexing me at the moment.  This person is quite passive aggressive and has a penchant for attacking others behind their backs.  It seems I have become the target of his/her ill will.

Now, here is the question:  how do I respond to such a toxic person?  Do I go on the offense and attack back?  Do I take the high road, and ignore this person's high school antics?  Or do I let this person simply boil in his/her own poison until s/he dies alone and unloved?  (I can't lie--thinking about that last option gives me quite a lot of pleasure.  Am I a terrible person?)

So, you see, questions beget more questions.  When I go to bed most nights, I find myself taking inventory of these questions, leading to many sleepless hours.  I've always been an obsessive worrier.  Questioning is a part of that.  If I'm not worrying about myself, I'm worrying about other people.  Yes, that's right.  I take on other people's worries, too.  I'm a worry collector.

I truly want what's best for everyone.  I don't know what's best, but I want everyone to have it.  Everyone deserves to be happy.  Well, almost everyone.  Not Donald Trump.  Or my passive-aggressive vexer.  Other than those two, everyone deserves happiness.

So, to sum things up, I have established that I am 1) a questioner, 2) a worrier, and now 3) a judger.

Which brings me to my last point:  I am a control freak.  Being a control freak involves questioning, worrying, and judging.  For example, I have spent most of this evening questioning, worrying about, and judging the weather forecasts for tonight.  Some of my weather sources say that my home town is only going to get a dusting of snow.  Other sources say up to 14 inches.  After several hours of deliberation, I have decided that there is not going to be a snow storm this evening.

Yes, that's right, disciples.  You heard it here first.  I can now control the weather.

That's all me.  Marty.  Patron saint of questioners, worriers, judges, and meteorologists.