Well, no. I kind of do give up, but in, like, a totally good way.
First, a little background. The Comedian has a teeny tiny little anger problem. Not the kind where I yell and scream and kick little woodland critters into brick walls. It's the kind where I become insanely angry about something, and then hold that anger in with so much force that if you plugged a toaster into my butt, I could make upwards of 15 pieces of toast before the power supply died. And then I'd get re-angry because you SHOVED A TOASTER PLUG INTO MY BUTT and the whole cycle would begin again. The world would just be full of toast and toaster plugs that smell like ass. No one wins.
The same thing happens when something makes me sad, and these days, lots of things make me sad. The list includes (but is not limited to):
- the engine light in my car
- Orange Politician
- we're killing the planet
- PEOPLE HUNT SCHOOL CHILDREN NOW
- being awful to humans with different melatonin levels is all the rage
- memes about how cool Doug Ford is, but with many of the words spelled wrong
- 'flossing' isn't a dance, guys
- my feet hurt
- everything seems kinda fucked
Several times a day, the words "I give up" fall out of my tooth-cave. I guess I never actually mean it, seeing as how I have yet to just fall over on the ground and wait for flowers to grow out of me, but there have been many times -- many many times -- when I have thought about getting in my car and driving away. However, if you refer to first item on the list above, you will see that is not a great option. No point running away if you'll probably only make it as far as the next area code. Also, I get a girl-salary, which means I can't afford very much gas. (Note to self - add 'girl-salaries' to the sadness list before you publish this blog post.)
So I can't run away. I can't fall over and die. I can't make people stop shooting children, or care that the Earth is being poisoned, or think twice about the poorly-spelled stupid thing their (I did that on purpose) about to share on Facebook, or stop taking giant old-man shits all over the place for the sake of proving he's the most stablest genius that ever done lived. I also can't fix car engines. I can't do shit.
And I can't be sad and angry all the time.
So, I will give up. But, as I said earlier, in a totally good way.
Orange Politican starts a trade war? Race war? Space war? He might. Totally within the realm of possibility. I'll keep doin' what I do. Buying stuff I need, not hating people who don't look like me, not being in space. Easy enough. Me being sad or angry can't stop bad things from happening. Me buying something from a local store or smiling at someone who wears something different on her head than I do might improve someone's day. Me staying out of space saves me from going all Total Recall bug-eyes because I go outside and forget to bring my helmet.
Planet quickly being poisoned to shit? We can't stop being assholes and try to do something to fix it? Fine. I give up trying to convince you you're wrong and that you suck. I'll continue walking or biking when I can, I'll keep taking my reusable cups to Starbucks and my reusable bags to the grocery store and I'll keep dragging my green bin out to the curb on Tuesdays even though I'm pretty sure a raccoon lives inside it now. I'll do what I do because it makes me feel better, even if it doesn't really help. And hey -- by the time the planet says SCREW YOU HUMANS, HERE'S SOME RAIN MADE OF POISON DARTS, I'll already have died of natural causes or possibly from tripping while holding a pencil. It could easily go either way.
Some people and some things are always going to be terrible, to varying degrees. Maybe you share dumb memes about how Justin Trudeau's hair makes him incapable of doing anything, ever (please tell me you know that's fucking idiotic) or maybe you think it's a GREAT IDEA to arm teachers instead of FUCKING DOING SOMETHING about guns, or maybe you think I should probably have my mechanic check out my car. I don't care what you think, and I'm not fighting with you over it anymore. I'm not getting angry about it anymore. I'm not going to fight back tears anymore while I'm reading a story about the latest horrible thing people did to other people. And I have a CAA membership, so bring it on, car. Bring. It. On.
I think some of those things might be easier typed than done. We shall see. Maybe I'll fail utterly, and the world will be filled with butt-toast. Or maybe I'll give up exactly the way I want to, and I'll spend the rest of what I hope will be a long life enjoying the people around me and the places I go and the things I see and do, unburdened by the worry and the anger and the sadness.
Or maybe tomorrow I'll trip while carrying a pencil. Whatever.
