If you have always wanted to live a stress-free, dramaless life, there’s just one very simple step:
Drop all people from your life.
Mostly, by and large, I don’t have stress issues. Over time, I’ve adopted a philosophy that has helped me take control over large parts of my life, and that has helped me recognize the things I don’t control (and consequently, to let go of my concern about those things).
Unfortunately, I still have a few human beings as friends and family. Don’t get me wrong — it wouldn’t be any better if I had them as pets. But still.
Some people around me are quite good at keeping their own lives in check. I love those people. And I’m the first to admit I invite my own fair share of drama into my own life — hell, I create some here and there. But I bore easily and have ADD, if anyone needs an excuse.
It’s the shit outside of those parameters that has swarmed into my life this week. And I love the people involved — at least three of them; and I know they’re going to be around for a while, or so I hope. The drama’s not going away — if it’s not in its present form, it’ll be in some other disguise. But this week, of all weeks, for the needless bullshit that could be avoided with a word or a walk in the opposite direction – I would say something about it being Friday and how great that is, but when you work your second job on the weekend, that doesn’t mean as much as it should.
But goddamn, I’m looking forward to this weekend. I’m making absolutely no plans outside of my responsibilities to work, because I’m going to have three days of not being let down or disappointed or dragged into (read: stepping willingly toward) someone else’s wild, wild life. I’m going to catch up on my own things instead of getting bogged down in someone else’s. I may even get drunk. Yeah, that’s right, drunk.
Which of course will lead to me drunk dialing Kasey and telling her that I want to marry her. That’s where problems always begin — drunk dialing leads to Vegas weddings, which in turn lead to tabloid stories, more stalkerazzi, car chases down Sunset Strip, lawsuits, and community service.
Nothing kills the drama like a bright orange jump suit in the Alabama summer. But then divorce is usually right around the corner, and I kinda like Kasey, so maybe I should put this off for a month or two. Or set-up a good prenup, at the least.
I got your back, OJ. You tell me where, and I’ll have the white Ford Bronco standing by.
Orange makes you look fat, btw.
It’s not the orange, it’s the fucking fat.