Tuesday, June 25, 2013

June 25: "F#@k You," Impossible. Prayer of the Week

I went down by a different staircase, and I saw another "Fuck you" on the wall.  I tried to rub it off with my hand again, but this one was scratched on, with a knife or something.  It wouldn't come off.  It's hopeless anyway.  If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn't rub out even half the "Fuck you" signs in the world.  It's impossible.

Holden's little diatribe about "Fuck you" signs is one of my favorite parts of The Catcher in the Rye.  He's right, too.  No matter how much time you have, you'd never be able to erase them all from the world.  The people on our planet are programmed with "Fuck you" attitudes, starting in grade school, which is where Holden sees the first "Fuck you" sign in the book.

I'm tired of all the "Fuck you" signs I've been encountering in my life recently.  No matter how hard I work, it seems like I've been running into entire walls covered with them.  I need to work overtime to pay my bills this summer.  Fuck you.  I need a full-time job at the university.  Fuck you.  A good friend of mine is losing the job he's worked for his entire life.  Fuck you.  My daughter wants to do two solos next year in dance.  She hasn't gotten a "Fuck you" on this one; just a possible "Fuck you."

I'm sorry for my language.  I've reached a level of tired that tends to shut down my internal censors.  I want some good news.  I want to get up tomorrow morning without thinking immediately, "OK, what's going to go wrong today?"  I'm barely into full summer, and already I'm counting the days until my checks start coming from the university again.  (It's a depressingly large number of days at the moment.)  I want to be able to focus on something happy.

That's my prayer for this week.

Dear Boss,

Yes, it's that guy who complains every Tuesday afternoon.  Today, I'm not going to complain, however.  Today, I'm going to simply ask for happiness.

When I wake up tomorrow, let me think of something happy.  Please.  Of course, thinking of something happy means not thinking of something unhappy.  So, I guess what I'm really asking is that You take away some of my worries.  A nice, full-time job at the school would help.  Or maybe some prestigious poetry prize, although it's too late for the Pulitzer and too early from the Nobel.  Heck, I'd be happy with an obscene phone call, as long as it's tasteful.

That's what I'm praying for this week.  Happiness, for myself, my wife, and my family.  Perhaps I simply need to look around me right now.  Maybe happiness is sitting right next to me...

All I see is a calendar, an old pair of running shoes, and a candle.  If that is what's supposed to make me happy, I'm in deep doo-doo.

Help.  Please, God, help.

Your loving child,

Saint Marty

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I get it.

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