I'll get right on it (that's what she said)...

There're soooo many important things that I should be doing right now.  I wonder what it is like to be a responsible person, who sees due dates for what they are....  You see, my neurological software goes through a series of algorithms when anticipating deadlines.  I hate to drag everyone through the details but I think that it's important for people to know before they ask me to do something.  It's actually a pretty simple equation, pay attention:  (deadline) minus - (amount of time to complete task) equa
Image via Wikipedials = (product delivered on time to smiling faces).  That's the theory anyways.  My OS doesn't take into account a certain contingency or padding, if you will, for possible road blocks.  What my OS does instead, is quite impressive.  Like two dudes at Home Depot my brain literally starts to argue with itself about certain items such as: agility, quickness, efficiency, ability to open eyes under salt water, personal records for competing various rungs up the ladder of the Ninja order, the list goes on like this....   So each new argument shaves off anywhere from 5 minutes to 24 hours (depending on the task).  Eventually a completely subjective, unproven hypothesis becomes doctrine and time has been cut in half.  This is where the clever adjustment comes to the playground.  Rather than agree that I will be done early (not in my vocab, I had to look that word up--its implications exhausted my entire mental apparatus), my brain subtracts that extra time that will be saved, because it says it can be done.  Thus we have:

(Specific Deadline) - (readjusted finish time--after hours of arguing, bragging, then folding) =
(Thanks for screwing me over brain, you gave me worse odds to meet this deadline than the chance of a "good" decision in Las Vegas)

Image via Wikipedia

OK, so it is complicated.  That's why I've been caught walking around talking to myself.  It's hard to just sit back while all that debate is going on up there, and I can't participate.  Sure, I could sit back listen to some distracting angry music and let the unconscious battle it out with the sub-conscious, but I'd get restless after about 14.5 seconds (on average I've only been able to sit still long enough to time myself on 2 occasions).  So I engage.  Sure everybody make fun of the crazy guy talking to himself.  Don't think for a minute that he doesn't notice and you haven't been added to his list of "silly fools who've crossed me... I'll save the last laugh for me".  What's that?  Now you want to be friends?

My wife is well aware of this--my ability to get sidetracked and postpone (I don't like the stigma attached to the word procrastination)--which is why I'm looking over my shoulder every time I'm gettin' my blog on.  She's like my productivity coach, always trying to get me "back on track".  Some people just don't understand the importance of the underground education.

There, I've gone and done it again.  I completely forgot what all those important things were, that needed to get done.

And that's why I have peace over anxiety...

It hurts so good...

Image via WikipediaSo there I am modern-day slave.  My mother-in-law tells me, "build me a deck, NOW!  And it better be done before you start school, or else..."
I reply, "Yes'm, I go build deck.  Please don't beat me, Mama."

So I'm out at Home Depot with Mom's American Express.  I'm doing all I can to give that magnetic strip a frictionless surface (I'm used to getting my credit card declined when I try to purchase something for like $8.  So I have to split the transaction between 3 cards, some pocket changes, and a counterfeit baseball card [silly cashiers will believe anything].  So, imagine what it's like for me to walk around with the AmEx.).  So, I get some wood to build scaffolding.  Ol' man gets home and tells me the scaffolding is a P.O.S..  Then, he about blows his top to learn that I spent $20 on wood to build it.  He says it "DOLL ERRS", rather than twenty bucks.  You know how I feel about money talk (If you know my in-laws, you know they're loaded.  All that money and stingy as could be.  They love making me build a deck that has more square feet than my home.  Just rub that money in my face.)  So when I ask Ol' man to rent some scaffolding, he just laughs at me.  Than he tells me to move my truck full of wood and tools off of their 100 foot drive, and to re-park his Lexus.  Excuse me!  I'm sorry I wasn't raised in a state that values potatoes and patriotism over safety and education!  Don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about Ol' man.

So there I am, working away on my home-made, definitely NOT OSHA compliant, scaffolding.  I did my best to build it to last.  As I had about 4 more joist to place, I could tell that the structural integrity of the scaffolding was definitely in question.  I planned to add reinforcement, but fearing the belt, I kept working away.  Mom's glaring at me through the window, shaking her head in shame, every 20 minutes.  I'm running out of excuses for why it's taking me sooo long.

Second to last joist to put up, and gravity seems to be accelerating.  Had I only added that extra reinforcement.  I don't want the joist to land on me, and if I throw it the scaffolding will collapse even quicker.  So I stand there, like and idiot, as the scaffolding crumbles below me.

The Ol' man declines the worker's comp claim.  To stick it further in my face, he pays off the judge.  The case is thrown out.  GAME OVER.  I lost.

The details are all sketchy at this point (probably amnesia from the fall).  So I may have exaggerated the story a little for effect (Ol' man will be proud of me there, cuz that's how he tells stories.  Details are only as important, as the reaction they provoke.  His people will probably have this blog censored before it even posts).

The point is, I got a boo-boo and people need to feel sorry for me.

Be careful out there, a lot of disfunctional wood at Home Depot.

That's what she said (but not to me)...