Monday, December 17, 2012

Random Acts of Stupid

There are days, gentle reader, when we are not ourselves.  We all have them. 
You do, I do, everyone do.  And there are days, gentle reader, that seem to thrive especially inside my own stitched-together shell.  These are the days in which I exist only to perform inexplicably stupid or embarrassing things.  Nothing really dangerous, mind you.  Nothing obliteratingly stupid.

Just normal stupid.  The kind of stupid we all hope we’re done with when our arms and legs stop growing…  the kind of stupid we seem to mature past as we become adults and bloom into the graceful, thoughtful grownup people we were always meant to be.

Problem is, I’ve always been a natural when it comes to being a clumsy idiot.  It's in my blood.  It's in the fabric of my very soul.  That little genetic gem just doesn’t go away, either, gentle reader.  And I’ll just as easily nose-dive down the escalator as I will blurt out something particularly thoughtless.  (Accidentally swearing the ol' J.C. next to that nun on the bus, for instance...) Not all the time, mind you.  Just like once or twice a year.  It’s as if there were a universe-bill out there that I have to pay for when I’m being nice to people every day and when I look  normal for the rest of the time.  I like to think of it as my “dumbass bill”.  
 
Me: Gee, I'm so proud of myself.  I've been so calm and successful recently.
Universe: *ding* your dumbass bill is due
Me: *walks into glass door* SON OF A BITCH
Small Child Behind Me:  Mommy?  What's 'zunuvabitch' mean?
Universe:  *ding* you are now paid in full

Usually, I can laugh it off.  Usually, I don’t do anything injurious to anyone but myself.

Sometimes, though, ol' Hubris gets the best of me and I up and say something really rude.  And inevitably, the dagger falls on someone other than me. 

And that blows. 

In the years since I started trying my best to look like a grownup, I’ve learned a lot.  I’ve learned how to walk like a grownup and talk like a grownup and eat like one too.  Mostly.  But I still have a lot to learn.  My brand new personality is pretty brassy.  I have a big damned mouth sometimes and while I rarely intend to be hurtful, every now and then my big damned mouth ends up being just that and then some.  I have learned that I can be extremely hurtful.  Even when I don't want to be. 

And that, gentle reader, is what I’ve done.  And it's usually when I'm not paying attention.
 
because... well...  Q E D I guess.

I’m not going to rescind anything on my previous post(s).  I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen.  I was hurtful and tactless.  Regardless of my original sentiment, the way I went about expressing it was about ten thousand times worse.  And worse than that, worse than being mean spirited or graceless or rude, it was stupid.

I know better than that.  I’m better than that.  And the person I was rude to deserves better than that. 

It was mean.  It was stupid. 

And there it is.  And there we are.  And here I am.
I have, it would appear, a lot to learn.  Still.

So this is one part Mea-Culpa, one part *headdesk*. 

What I did, the way I did it, was wrong and it was hurtful.

And that blows.
And I’m sorry.

2 comments:

Mountain Mama said...

Apology accepted.
Hope you enjoy the card.
We had to special order pictures from the orthopedic surgeon to make it extra special this year.
:)
MM

Karoline Fritz said...

I wondered! the broken bone picture is a keeper. Enjoy our card as well.