Late Nights And Early Mornings Just Don’t Jive. It’s My Life In A Nutshell.

Well Kids, Here I Am.

It’s Just After 5AM…

…And I’m Already Wide Awake.

I Didn’t Get To Sleep Until Well After 1AM, So I Haven’t The Foggiest As To WHY On Hell’s Half-Acre I’m Wide Awake.

I Have A Lot On My Mind, Yes…

…But Still.

None Of It Is Important Enough To Keep Me Awake…

…So I Am Simply At A Loss For My Lack Of Quality Rest, Today.

I Stayed-Up Last Night…

…Reading Reading Reading…

…Trying To Force Myself Into Being As Tired As I Possibly Could.

I Think All That Did Was Make My Eyes Sore And Bleary.

I Was Reading Some…

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

…And I Ran Across A Quote That Seriously Could’ve Been Written Specifically For Me.

"IT TAKES LESS TIME TO DO A THING RIGHT THAN IT DOES TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU DID IT WRONG."

Oh, How True That Is.

My Peeps…

…I Freely Admit…

…I Am Simply Under-Skilled.

As A Writer, I Do Succeed At Times.

But With Most Other Things In Life…

…Essential Or Non-Essential…

…I’m Still More Likely To Screw-It-Up Than The Next Guy.

Being Accident Prone…

…Being ADHD Out The Ass…

…And Being That Way My Entire Life…

…I Could Spin A Yarn A Light-Year Long About How Many Things I Funkyed-Up Over The Years.

I’m Totally NOT THE GUY You Want To Invite Over To Show Off Your New White Carpeting.

Nor Am I The Guy You Want Helping You Trim A Hedge.

Nor Fixing Your Computer.

Nor Washing Your Car.

Nor Walking Your Damned Dog.

Chances Are…

…If You’re A Betting Person…

…You Could Put All Your Money On…

"BRAD Will Screw This Up BAD."

It’s The Story Of My Life.

My Family And Friends Can Easily Attest To That Fact.

Need An Example?!

Have You Got A Lifetime To Spend On Listening?!

My Favorite Description Of My Work-Skills Comes From My Father.

His Favorite Thing To Say When I’m Working With Him On Something, Is…

"Watching You Work Is Like Watching A Monkey Try To Fuck A Football."

Yeah.

It Always Makes Me Laugh When I Hear It, Also.

He’s Not Being Mean When He Says That.

Honestly, He’s Just Being…

…Well…

…Honest.

Doing Something Correctly…

…For The Most Part…

…Is Beyond My Mental And/Or Physical Abilities.

Often Times I’m Forced Into Trying To Explain How/Why I Screwed Something Up.

Whether It Be To A Family Member…

…A Close Friend…

…Or Someone In An Authoritative Position…

…I’m Almost ALWAYS The One Trying To Explain Why Something Didn’t Go As Planned.

Period.

I Would LOVE To Be Able To Do Something Right.

I Would LOVE To Have The Attention-Span To Learn A New Skill.

I Would LOVE To Be Able To Go Somewhere And Do Something WITHOUT Having To Say…

"Well Shit, I Have No Idea How I Blew This One Out My Ass... ...But I Did."

It’s Funny How Something As Simple As A Line Of Text…

…Like That LONGFELLOW Quotation…

…Can Make The Mind Go All A Flutter.

And That Brings Me To Another Quote I’ve Happened-Upon Recently.

"A BELIEF IS NOT MERELY AN IDEA THE MIND POSSESSES, IT IS AN IDEA THAT POSSESSES THE MIND" --Robert Oxton Bolt

To Me…

…In The Context We’ve Been Discussing…

…Perhaps My “Lacking-In-Skills” Is All In My Head.

Perhaps I Could Do Some Of The Things I Generally Find Daunting And/Or Impossible.

It’s Simply That I Don’t Believe In Myself.

I Have This Belief Locked Into My Brain That I’m Useless In Most Situations.

That I Can’t Accomplish Something Because I’m More Apt To Screw-It-Up…

…So I Go Into Each Situation Not Thinking About Success.

I Go Into Them Thinking…

"Good God, How Am I Gonna Blow This One?!"

…When I Should Be Thinking…

"Alright, Let's Do This!"

It’s Something To Ponder, My Peeps, Fo SHO.

So…

…Even Though The Hour Is Early…

…I’ve Got To Try Try Try To Maintain A Positive Mental Outlook.

It’s Not Easy.

Especially When It’s Something One Is In No Way Used To.

But I Keep Trying, My Peeps.

I Try Very VERY Hard, Actually.

Let’s Hope It Helps.

Otherwise…

…I’ll Be Explaining To Someone How I Screwed This One Up, Also.

I HATE EXPLAINING MYSELF.

Hate It Hate It HATE IT.

Why?

Because I’m Not So Good At That, Either.

πŸ˜‰

It’s FRIDAY, Kiddies!

Let’s Get Through The Day WITHOUT Screwin-The-Pooch.

M’Kay?

M’KAY!!!

πŸ˜€

13 responses to “Late Nights And Early Mornings Just Don’t Jive. It’s My Life In A Nutshell.

  1. Well, Jivin’ Turkey, I too, can be a disaster waitin’ to happen sometimes. (I think we all are at times). I will say I love me some sleep! I can sleep like a rock. The only time I suffered from insomnia (and I do view it as suffering) was last year, when I was here at home by myself at night…it was insomnia born from fear, but it really stunk! I would roam around the house at 2 and 3 in the morning then try to sleep…stare at the clock, stare at the ceiling, fluff my pilllow, etc…I was mentally exhausted! Have you always had insomnia?

    Like

  2. Don’t feel bad brother, I feel my skills are lacing 90% of the time…LOL May I join you in your boat of unskilled navigators without a clue where they are going…LMAO

    Like

  3. Did you straighten out your Longfellow?
    Okay, yes, your dad’s description of your work skills is freaking hilarious, but for two reasons. One, the funny (I mean, a monkey going at it with a football, come on!). But two, I’ve got the same problem, dude.
    Now, you’re thinking to yourself, “That’s nice of you to say, Smak, but you don’t know, man. You think you do, but you don’t.”

    No, man–YOU don’t know–I am an inept motherfucker. One of my buddies put it best when he said (and like your old man, quite cheerfully and without any rancor) of my hands, “You can’t do anything with those great big dick-beaters.”

    This will make you laugh, but it is absolutely true. When I was a kid the collector’s market for comics hadn’t really taken off the way it did just a few years later, and sometimes you could find pretty old (and now valuable) comics at antique stores. Sadly, because I was (and am) such an oaf, my mom FORBADE me to go into antique stores (or any place with delicate, pricey things) without her being present.

    My clumsy hands destroy things. I keep knocking down these stupid pine-cone bird-feeders my kids made because I walk straight into them.

    When we do work on the house, my job is usually to lift and bring stuff. I can handle that. I go through headphones like chewing gum.

    So bro, I trust you’ll believe me when I say it’s not my brain that keeps me from being a world-class surgeon. Or rather, it’s not JUST my brain!

    When you say you have no skills–I’ve experienced something like that. I remember thinking a few years ago that I didn’t have many skills, and those skills I did have weren’t very marketable (“whiz at trivial pursuit” “friendly”). Ha! Actually, i still feel agree with the “marketable” part, now that I think about it.

    Brad, I believe you have mad skillz (are you any good at Trivial Pursuit?), you just might not be in tune with them yet.

    Like

    • My Hands Are Referred To As “My Silly Hands” Because I Can’t Even Make Myself A Cup Of Coffee Without Spilling The Sugar, Or The Creamer (non-dairy of course), Or The Whole Damned Cup Itself.
      You’ll Like This…
      …I Was Half-Way Offered A Job By A Friend Of A Friend Of The Family. Afterward, I Told My BFF About It, And He Said, “Uh, Dude, You Know That’s Not A Good Idea. You Want To Live, Right?!”
      The Job Offered To Me Was To Be A Wood-Splitter/Logger Type Gig. I’d Be Climbing Trees With A Chainsaw, Or Something. Could You Imagine ME Doing That Type Of Work? Right! No One Else Could Believe I Was Even Considering It. They Know I’m Accident Prone. My Father Had Never Let Me Touch A Chainsaw, Because He Knew How Clumsy I Am. Everyone Was Simply Shocked I’d Think About That Job. They Knew I’d Be Dead Within 20 Minutes Because I Would Have Lopped-Off An Arm Or A Leg.
      Yeah.
      My Job When There’s Wood To Be Cut? Pick-Up The Pieces And Put Them Into The Bed Of The Truck, And Try Not To Drop Them Onto Myself (which has happened many times away).
      No Ax-Swinging. No Chain-Sawing. No Nothing. Because They Want Me To Survive The Experience.
      And I’m Not Allowed In Antique Stores, Just Like You, RK.
      Sheesh, Dude.
      Sheesh, Indeed.
      πŸ˜‰
      -B.

      Like

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