Root Cause

So yeah, I'm barely functional this week. I'm guessing it's another one of those times when I'm juggling too many things at once. It makes me remember this metaphor from Bryan Dyson:

"Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling some five balls in the air.  You name them-work, family, health, friends, and spirit-and you are keeping all of these in the air.  You will soon understand that work is a rubber ball.  If you drop it, it will bounce back.  But the other four balls-family, health, friends, and spirit-are made of glass.  If you drop one of these, they will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged, or even shattered.  They will never be the same.  You must understand that and strive for balance in your life."

Unfortunately, we all need to work, yes? And my relationship level with work has always been at tolerance. I know, it's wrong.

Why is it wrong?  Because a couple of years ago, I did not believe there was a threshold for tolerance. I thought that there was always a positive side to things. I thought the little annoyances could be ignored, because they were just that: annoyances. The scary thing is that those little potshots will add up if one does not do anything about them. And holy shit, there will be fireworks when the dam breaks.

Maybe that's why I'm a sucker for good stories. It's easy to relate to stories where someone messes up horribly, and somehow tries to get things together. It's really sad that there's probably one success story for every hundred failures, but I digress.

I've always found wisdom in the things John Cheese writes. He may have fucked up most of his life, which is probably why there is something comforting in his words when you can look past the profanity. It's almost like most articles he writes is a "Hang in There" sign for someone, somewhere. I hope the guy writes a book about his life, because I swear I'll read the living shit out of it.

This one in particular, I re-read whenever things get crappy at work. It doesn't promote materialism, but it does point into a certain direction (as said in the comments):

"Money doesn't buy happiness, but it does buy choices."

I have no comeback to that. Damn.

Lastly, for some unknown reason, I keep recalling Hope for the Flowers as I wrote this. I have no idea what moral lesson other people have derived from this book, but to me it has always said the same message: that it is pretty goddamn lonely at the top. If one really thinks about it, the ending is sort of an eye opener for the main character(s), and points to that same message (albeit at a much different vantage point).

And for the record, I hate butterflies. It's like they're the works of the devil, and yes, I realize how irrational that sounds.