Tuesday, November 22, 2005


I drive. I am driving. I am driven. It seems that's all I do these days. I drive to work, I drive to school, I drive to the in-laws to foist my kid on them for a few hours of adult conversation with my husband. And when I do get those few kid-free hours? I feel driven to make them count. To not squander them on mediocre food and an insipid rehashing of my oh-so-boring day at work. I feel compelled to be witty and charming (two things I constantly aim for but rarely achieve). Inevitably, though, I'm reduced to a gibbering mass of idiocy with nothing more insightful to say than, "Mmm..this is a good salad."

I am driven to find a deeper meaning in my life than just getting from Point A to Point B. I've seen all the platitudes slapped onto the backs of fuel-chugging SUVs like "Life is not a race to the finish," "Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly," and "No Jesus, no peace; know Jesus, know peace." Frankly, I've never read a bumper sticker yet that was so profound that it made me want to rethink my existence -- and if I ever do I've ordered my husband to shoot me dead because if that happens it means there's an alien life form chewing on my brain stem plotting world domination.

So where does one find meaning? In a fortune cookie? I just don't trust them like I used to before they started printing "winning" lottery numbers on the back of the fortunes. Should I go on some Buddhist retreat? Spend a wad of cash for some short, bald fucker to tell me to listen to the silence of my mind and let it guide me? No thanks. I've already wasted about 12 hours of my life watching all the Star Wars movies. I think the little green guy with the big ears and the speech impediment covered most of that.

I guess I'll just have to muddle my way through this existence and hope I don't come back as a cockroach in the next life. That would suck.


Blogger Hannah Gerber said...

I feel horrifically sorry for anyone looking to find 'deeper meaning in life' and besides, being a cockroach isnt all that bad. People still dont understand you but for reasons other than lack of interest and your shell is tough as shit.
We're ugly but really, who isnt?
And we dont pay taxes or bemoan the lack of meaning in our lives, we just LIVE.
I say, be like the cockroach, and the butterfly, and the fly-shit speckled windshield of your car, and just be what you are.
You too ambitious!
Lazily yours,
Buddha-Roach-Yenta. The Third.

10:52 AM  

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