Friends! I'm back! I've missed you. It's been a rough little sabbatical. I've had 4 writing projects in the works and apparently that's three too many because my brain went on lock-down recently and I have had the worst writer's block... so bad that I dreamt last night that I had a term paper due for work (??) and it had to be 3 pages long on any topic I wanted and I could not think of a single thing to write about and I was bawling and wailing "Why can't I think of anything?! It only has to be THREE PAGES!!" A topic would occur to me and I would sit for a moment and try to write about it but nothing would come so I just continued pacing and brainstorming and crying for the entire dream.
Obviously, I'm due for an intervention. And who better to step in and cure my writer's block than our deranged old pal who wears the same shirt everyday and stands a little too close, Gregory Stock, PH.D, author of the oddly provoking Book of Questions! I have prepared two for today and already these are getting the creative juices flowing so hopefully this will dam the stress dreams for tonight.
#127 If you could change
anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?
God it is just soooo like a
therapist to prompt you to rewrite history!*
I'm not a fan of this
question. I don't think it's healthy to wish to change your past, obvious
exceptions being if your entire family was murdered In Cold Blood- style or if
you are any of the characters in The Wire. It seems to me that no one's life is
perfect but you play the cards you're dealt with positivity and determination and
hope and in time that shapes you into a strong yet modest individual who's known for chiming
in with good zingers around the dinner table.
My family's generally pretty happy
and I really enjoyed my childhood so I guess if I had to change
something, I would have my parents win Powerball so they never had to work and we
could be independently wealthy and just chill out and go to Disney World once a
month? But then I probably would have grown up to be an insufferable brat who's never had a real job and delights in trashing hotel rooms, so
maybe I take that back.
I suppose it would have been
cool to be groomed from a young age at a famous performing arts school where
you sing all day and Intro to Choreography is considered a math credit. I
would've basically gotten a diploma for doing all the things I did in my spare
time anyway, which is more or less the American Dream. But then I probably
would have grown up to be a socially inept bore who takes karaoke too seriously
and references "Jan" in stories like you're supposed to know who Jan
is, so I take that one back, too.
I guess in the end the only
thing I would change is I would give myself a horse. I always wanted one so I'm choosing to indulge myself and, besides, it
would have reinforced core values like caring for something outside of myself
and the importance of a disciplined routine not to mention how it might have animated
one of life's most triumphant metaphors if I ever fell. Really the only
drawback is that when I left for college my parents would have been stuck with
a pet that cost them thousands of dollars annually in food, lodging and
maintenance whereas in reality they were just stuck with my cat, who cost about
$5 a week in canned giblets and in fact contributed to the household by trapping
mice. So I guess everything works out for the best. Which just brings me back
to my original instinct, not to mourn the past. You lose, Dr. Stock!
#81 If you were to discover your closest friend was a
heroin dealer, what would you do?
Alright, we all know the answer Dr. Stock is angling for
so for his benefit here goes: I would be outraged! I would be scandalized! I
would collapse right there on the corner of Main Street and Huckleberry Lane and the green grocer
would revive me with smelling salts while the paper boy runs to get the doctor.
When I regain my senses, I would report my friend to the authorities and he'd
be hauled off to jail in the back of a paddy wagon, gripping the bars with
tears streaming down his face as I'm given a key to the city for helping to
keep our streets drug-free for future generations.
In all seriousness, my friends would never secretly deal
heroin. They would tell me about it and offer to get me on board because they
are thoughtful and generous individuals who have my best interest at heart.
What better side job for an artist than dealing drugs? Flexible hours, wads of
untaxed income, and it doesn't require any brain power that distracts from your
craft. Also, as an actor, I'm a natural salesperson. Confident. Self-motivated.
Results-driven. I would be an asset to the company, really. In fact, when I was
fresh out of Peace Corps and flat broke, a friend of mine gave me a lead on a
pharmaceutical sales job and my Dad begged me to take it for a year just to
bank some money and then do whatever I want. I didn't do it, I took a teaching
job for $19K a year instead so this would basically be my chance to make it up
to him. Let's face it, it's the same general idea except better because I
wouldn't have to go door to door with a rolling suitcase like I'm peddling
encyclopedias. Also, I have no desire to do heroin so there's no threat of me
consuming all the product and then having to go on the lam when it's time to
pay my supplier. The more I think about this, the more I really feel like I'm a
good fit. Drug lords, hit me up on LinkedIn!
And there you have it, Friends. How would you answer Gregory Stock, PH.D?
*Kidding. I love therapy! If I
had insurance I would go all the time. Until then, I rely on fortune
cookies.
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