Saturday, August 17, 2013

You Can't Fix Stupid

Sometimes I reflect back on my life and wonder how I ever made it to this age; how the universe allowed me to procreate; how I have ever held a job?  I ask this because I have been known to suffer from "The Stupid". Now, I suppose everyone does stupid things once in a while and that is part of being a human.  But the collective stupid of my teen years and the arrogant stupid of my twenties are enough combined stupid to prevent the graduation of a class of 500 high school seniors, were I unkind enough to infect them with a viral version of my stupid.

The beauty of aging is truly the gaining of wisdom.  For every laugh line you gain and grey hair you sprout, you lose a little bit of your stupid.  I like to imagine it falling out of my head, like grains of sand, but based on the number of grey hairs in my head, I would be nothing but an empty sack of skin at this point, so that's probably not how it works.  Nonetheless...

Whatever the magic formula is for losing of the stupid with age, it does seem to leave a little wiggle room for the occasional and sometimes colossal bouts of The Stupid to reappear.  Such is the case of last Sunday when I was infected with a case of The Stupid so powerful, I am lucky that I did not end up in the hospital, or worse.

I had done a little food shopping that morning and I had about six bags of groceries to carry into the house. I walked around to the back of my van and popped the back door, which opens upward, over my head.  There were six bags of groceries and I figured I could load up five on my left hand and one on my right, leaving it semi-free to pull the door down and save a trip back to close it. Great.  Nope.

Because I was one handed, I felt like I had to pull down extra hard on the door to get it closed.  I closed my hand firmly around the handle and yanked downward on it with all my might, straight on to my head.  The stream of profanity that pierced the early Sunday morning air would have made a porn star blush as I reeled in the driveway.   

I stumbled into the house, still cursing and screaming and grabbed a bag of ice from the freezer.  I sat there and iced my head, while the three other people in my house slumbered quietly, never noticing a thing. By the time  I came to my senses, I realized that I was not bleeding and I wasn't dizzy but I couldn't do algebra.  I'm pretty sure I never had a lock on the algebra to begin with, so I was probably going to be ok. 

A few minutes later, my poor, unfortunate and late sleeping husband finally wandered downstairs and naturally, I took it out on him.  How could he have not heard me screaming in pain?  Where was he when I needed him?  He made himself a cup of coffee and began to quietly put the groceries away.  Good for him for not catching a case of my stupid.


4 Your comments, banter and witty repartee:

Mom of the Perpetually Grounded said...

You just verified something I was thinking about myself : )

P.S. This morning I went to the store and cussed my way through three plastic fruit bags before I realized I was trying to open them from the wrong end....yep...

Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

MOTPG - Oh god, the vegetable bags...the bane of my existence.

Lin said...

Owie. I hope your head is okay now. :(

I hate it when the rest of the house is sleeping while I'm suffering. Damn it--WAKE UP people and hear my cries of pain!! And act like you care, dammit. Criminy.

Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Lin - All good in the noggin department, not so good in the stupid department.

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