baggage's Diaryland Diary

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One Hand Counting

I'll stick around and learn all that came from it

Dave Grohl

So last Tuesday my usual good attitude was picked up, turned upside down and thrown around like a pork chop in a shake and bake bag. And believe you me, folks-the shaking was more than sufficient to coat me with a nice, deep, crispy layer of assholiness.

I wanted to write about this then, but my rant on animals and emotions was sufficient to filter out my angst for the moment.

Like I said: for the moment.

To simplify, my truck was broken and I took it to a mechanic who promised to super glue it back together for around $300. Like a fool, I paid the money. I'm real naive that way. A mechanic sez he'll fix my Tonka, and I blink my chinky little eyes and say, "HOKAY!"

But, nope. I guess expecting a mechanic to do a job right is just a bit too much to ask these days. My truck runs worse than ever, and Mr. Mechanic sez he needs to $600 more to fix it right. Hmmm, just 24 hours earlier, $300 would have fixed it right. I guess my truck is in such bad shape that it broke itself even more as it sat silently inside his auto shop. Just what I needed: a suicidal Toyota.

Very few things piss me off like a situation where I feel like someone is trying to rip me off-emotionally, financially or otherwise.

As far as I'm concerned, people who take advantage of others rank right down there with HMOs who deny giving a patient certain medications because "it's not covered under their plan." I'd like to say these people are lower than snakes-but hell, I like snakes (even if a snake was supposedly responsible for misleading dear Eve in the Garden of Eden).

In the mostly glorious 32 years I've been alive, I've made a mental list of people that, well, I'd like wrap up in raw meat and lock in a cage with a hungry lion.

There aren't many.

I can count 'em on one hand.

But, man, these people have that rare ability to take my usually calm self and turn me into an angry, ugly bastard. They not only press the right buttons, they install new ones. I'm not proud of this list. Usually, it's buried in my subconcious. But, ocassionally something happens that will remind me of the hell they put me thru. A song maybe. Or a situation. Whatever the cause, that old shit always seems to sit there floating in the bowl refusing to be flushed out of the house and into the sewer system.

Like George Michael said, my memory serves me far too well; cause I remember with startling detail the things they did and the words they said. Usually, I can feel myself getting pissed off all over again.

Although Ive been told otherwise, I'm not convinced that hanging on to these issues is a waste of time. I consider them hard lessons learned; a warning list to occasionally refer to; a reminder of how many truly wonderful people there are in my days.

After all, it would take more than two hands to count the great folks who share my life with me; more than two hands to count up all the folks who have blessed me with their friendship; more than two hands to count the folks patient enough to hold me up when I get weighed down with this lousy baggage.

If my math is right, that puts me way ahead.

14:29:46 - 2000-10-27

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