It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then -- just to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.
I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't help myself.
I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau, Muir, Confucius and Kafka. I would return to the office dazed and confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"
One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."
This gave me a lot to think about. I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I confessed, "I've been thinking..."
"I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"
"But honey, surely it's not that serious."
"It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"
"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently.
She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama.
"I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors. They didn't open. The library was closed.
To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra , a poster caught my eye, "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked.
You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinkers Anonymous poster.
This is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed...easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me.
Today I took the final step... I joined the Republican Party.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
I still have a hard time understanding why some people think that "if you don't think like me you must not be thinking." Is it so hard to believe that Republicans haven't thought things through and just have a different opinion then you. Maybe that is something you should think about.
(jeff f)
Point well taken Jeff. If everyone thought like I did, there'd be no one to tell me when I'm up in the night.
Luckily, I don't seem to have that problem.
Very clever! As a Mormon, I'm not supposed to drink, so I, too, change the "dr" to a "th" but my problem is that my thinking is often accompanied by speaking. THAT'S when the real trouble starts. It certainly raises eyebrows when non-traditional thinking results in comments in the high priest's group, but perhaps someone else there may begin to think, as well.
Well, that was just plain excellent!!
I too have become a pretty heavy thinker in recent years. It caused me to lose my faith in the Republican Party, and pretty much any politician in general. I don't even think the war in Iraq is right any more. But yet I have the utmost respect for the armed forces, despite all the crap they have to deal with - maybe that's just the think speaking though.
Fortunatley I managed to get my wife thinking as well... Sure it started off a little rocky, but once she had her first think, we were in it together.
I just keep asking myself, how can something so wrong feel so good?
Post a Comment