Arguing against myself works the same way. This week I've been trying to persuade myself that yes, I will go to Louisville next week whether I want to or not so I'd better stop griping and adopt a Positive Mental Attitude, but an argument I can't win is also an argument I can't quit. In other words, I'm not a particularly fun person to be around right now. In fact, I'm kind of tired of hearing myself grumble, so if I could figure out a way to kick myself to the curb, I'd do it.
The problem is I don't want to go to Louisville. I have to go to Louisville and I know I will enjoy certain aspects of Louisville, but nevertheless I don't want to go to Louisville next week to read two or three thousand essays written by high school students for the Test That Dare Not Speak Its Name. On the plus side, Louisville is a nice enough city and I like my roommate and I'll get to hang out with a thousand English teachers from all over the country, but on the other hand, I don't want to go.
So don't go. No one's holding a gun to your head.
Bills! Car loans, student loans, the high cost of health care and home improvement, no faculty raises for two years in a row! Bills bills bills!
Poppycock. You've already spent a week of your summer break being sick, and now you're going to hand over another week for filthy lucre?! It's just money!
Show me another way to make the entire summer budget deficit disappear with just one week of work.
Deficit, shmeficit. Just cut out your fall vacation this year and don't buy and new teaching clothes and make sure your cars and major appliances don't break down. And don't get sick.
See? One small disaster and we'll be selling pencils on the streetcorner.
Pencils? Who uses pencils?
And another thing: I have to go. I've made a commitment.
Commitment shmommitment. What about your commitment to watch those orioles that keep carrying yummy tidbits to the young ones in the nest near the driveway? By the time you get back from Louisville, those nestlings will be packing up to go away to college. (At the University of Maryland, no doubt.)
There are birds in Louisville. Mostly house sparrows and seagulls. Pigeons. The occasional blue heron. River city birds.
But you'll be stuck in a great big room reading essays eight hours a day and by the time you're done your eyeballs will be looking for a bridge to jump off of.
Well, if my eyeballs need to take a flying leap, the Ohio River will be handy.
If you're so determined to go to Louisville, why do you keep complaining?
Because I don't want to go.
See? No end. I seem to have developed a monopoly on complaining, but what's the point of playing a game that I can't possibly win?
2 comments:
Sounds like a week of hard work ahead. No wonder you aren't raring to go!
I hope it goes well for you.
You know, I've done this twice before so I knew what I was getting into when I signed up. It must have seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm sure it will be fine. It's just hard to tear myself away from home when so many exciting things are going on, like orioles. And my cilantro is coming up. And someone will have to pinch back the buds on the basil plants!
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