People say I’m funny. I’m not sure if they mean “Ha Ha Funny” or “Does this milk smell funny?”
I’m starting to wonder if perhaps they mean both.
Two friends of mine, Todd Camp and Kyle Trentham host an open mike comedy night ever Tuesday. I go whenever I can because I really need to get out more and I do kind of like watching other people’s train wrecks (or train’s wreck)
I have been considering putting together a two minute set of my own.
I don’t know if I’m funny in that way. I do encounter quite a bit of absurdity in my day to-day life, but I don’t know if anyone else would see it that way.
Here’s an example: I went to see my psychologist yesterday. (Although I am medicated, I do not regularly schedule psych appointments. It’s a cash flow thing. I fully believe that my level of crazy is directly related to the amount of disposable income I have, a Peter Principle of Psychosis, if you will.)
The reason I wanted an appointment was to discuss the way I have been feeling in reaction to you know, my life, and the fact that the universe feels the need to challenge me to a game of “How far can I push her before she freaks out?” on a daily basis.
I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth. Sorry Hamlet, I actually know wherefore the mirth loss stems (and other unknown stories by Hemingway.)
This mirthlessness is rapidly shoving me into the oh so fun arena of apathy. I’m concerned that this apathy led me to feeling absolutely no panic when the dentist told me that if my blood pressure did not come down appreciable in the twenty minute window from my arrival at his office to the procedure, that we would have to reschedule and I would be sent directly to my doctor. (The doctor who monitors most of medication is about twenty miles away from my dentist’s office and he didn’t mention if someone was going to drive me, because, really should someone with dangerously high blood pressure be driving themselves? What do I know? I’m not a doctor.)
Anyway, it took me a few minutes to realize that I didn’t really care one way or another if there was another brain thing waiting to leap out and crush me. Even though I know that I’m not likely to have as significant recovery as I did this time.
Still the blood pressure did come down, the assistant gave me nitrous oxide (only because I left an emotional skidmark on her when I told the truth when she asked, “How are you?” Note to self, only answer with the truth if someone is going to give you treat upon doing so.)
I realize that in this way my apathy is not a good thing, so I went to see my psychologist.
I enjoy her, especially since she is full of truthiness.
Upon leaving her office yesterday she said, “I will be thinking positive thoughts for you. You deserve something good after all you have been through.”
I’m not trying to be funny, but I think I could stand up for that.