My Paul Simon CD has a scratch on it.
I am completely and painfully aware of this.
It has been this way for 6 years and I know exactly where on my CD the scratch rears its ugly head.
Yet several times a year, mostly on my drive to the office, I pop in Paul for the effects of his musical Prozac.
Please take a moment to enjoy this photographic representation of how how I feel about this CD.
Why do I do this? I have no intention of listening to it through the skip which starts 2/3 of the way through Kodachrome. I do this because there is honestly a part of me that wholeheartedly believes that somehow, some way, by the grace of God my CD player is going to completely ignore the skip this time. I'm going to get lucky today and my favorite song is going to be played to completion. My fingers are crossed, "Today is my lucky day...oh, no it's not, maybe next time."
Why do I do this to myself?
Because I am stupid. Plain and simple. I'm stupid.
I have a part of my brain that believes in life's impossibilities and continues to do the same things over and over expecting different outcomes. This is the same portion of my brain that actually believes that the one time a decade I purchase a lottery ticket that I'm really, really, really going to win. Seriously – really.
This part of my brain plays nicely in the sandbox with the altruistic part of my brain that helps me divvy up how much of my windfall my family members will get and the part that calculates the "I'd be happy with $X million so therefore if 6 people play the same numbers, I'll still be rollin' in it" figure.
Sadly, my brain malfunction (or illness if you will) surfaces other times as well. Here's a sampling:
- "Hey, I'm going to make a recipe out of a magazine. I'm sure they'll all eat it. Mmm. Spinach!"
- "I'm going to walk up stairs. I'm sure Kim Kardashian (her nickname for today) isn't into my makeup or lotion or jewelry or handbags or her brother’s Kooky pens or God forbid the scissors again."
- "Today, the kids aren't going to ask for the non-maneuverable race-car shopping cart at BJ's. Let's give it a go!!!"
- "Hey! Let's sign Ryan up for soccer again. I'm sure he acquired an interest in sports by osmosis over the last few months and this time he won't ask his coach if squirrels are nocturnal in the middle of a scrimmage."
- "Let's go to Disney again. I'm sure Justin will be perfectly pleasant this time and they'll eat the $100 worth of food we buy and Ryan won't ask for souvenirs."
I could go on. Believe me.
For now, I will bravely deal with my illness like the trooper I am because I don't think there is a cure in sight.
I'll leave scientists to do more important work like curing cancer and inventing the Child Mute Button (insert sounds of singing angels here). Because I swear, by the grace of God, I really, really do believe that someone is going to invent that. Fingers crossed!