Times like this I really have to stop and wonder what the heck is going on in the world. No so much in the political aspect or in the “give peace a chance” aspect, but in the in interpersonal “what the hell is wrong with everybody” sense. It’s incredible to sit here at my fantastic desk at my fantastic job with some fantastic co-workers and be able to be so perfect. We’re all so wonderful, we can’t do anything wrong and everybody that decides to grace us with their presence is well, marred. Not only do they have nerve coming into OUR place of business and expecting to get what they want, they expect us to give it to them.
Doesn’t make much sense, huh. If you really think about it, the whole paragraph started off a bit wonky – but then again – sometimes that happens. The point that was trying to get put across is the fact that we as a society are pretty well self absorbed enough to be able to read something like that and almost relate. This is where I shake my head, and realize that even the most selfless individual still has some sort of ego to feed – even if it’s a tiny one. The ego of our society has become much like my description of my job “perfect”; our egos want everything to be perfect and almost lie it into existence. Even those that don’t realize they are doing it, our egos lie to us everyday and tell us either we’re things we’re supposed to be (good spouses, good employees, good cooks) and once one of those “good” aspects gets jeopardized life is thrown up in the air and your ego fucks with you, hard.
Take for instance my “perfect” job where I sell perfect people the best things in the world. I’m going to have some grimace on my face more times than not because I’m helping people get the things that they want, however, I’m not getting the things I want at that particular moment. I’m cranky because I have to serve these people that want the “perfect” object. Those that come in search for something in particular really get screwed when they find out that their idea of “perfection” and mine are so different, there is no possible way that I could give them qualified advice. Also, these people that come in search for the perfect item are people that work other places in which, very possibly, I might go in search of the perfect thing for me, and put them through what they put me through when they were visiting my place of business.
Kind of like chasing your own tail, no? It’s a never ending chase, you come see me, I’ll come see you, and we’re both wanting the best of the best. Our egos want us to be happy, and the only way that we think we can be happy is through perfection. We need to have our steak cooked perfectly. We need to have our beers perfectly cold and we really need to look perfect. Is it going to matter if you were perfectly dressed when you left the house and changed halfway through the day into another “perfect” outfit. You’d just be changing one perfect with another, so your day shouldn’t change, right? What if you were to go half of your day wearing a perfect outfit and then halfway through the day you decide to change into one of a homeless person? Would you have a less than perfect rest of the day? Would the world change just because you made a slight change – physically that is.
Of course not, the same people are still going to expect the same things from you, and more than likely you’ll get more attention from those around you because you’re not perfect. You’re different, you’re special, you’re unique. When you’re perfect you blend in with the other people that are seeking the same things as you “perfect”. When you begin to surround yourself with those that aren’t all about the perfect aspect, you start to see the world a little bit differently. Although we’re trained to want to be perfect and fit in, the ability to be a perfect individual is underrated.
This being said, I took a humongous step today, and although I’m shaking in my shoes in fear, I feel like it’s the right step. I felt lost and like I was really making a mistake thinking that I could actually eat a “real” lunch and not throw it up. I did, I ate it, what perfectly normal people eat, and instead of becoming an individual and taking control of my life and actions by throwing up – I went on with my life. It was awkward, I had a bunch of time on my hands all of a sudden. What the heck have I been wasting all that time puking for? I could have been learning something new all along. I’m planning on keeping that “real” lunch in my belly, with the hopes of becoming a “real” person in the future.
In the meanwhile, I’m perfect. I’m perfectly happy with who I am at this very moment, even though I’m a bit stressed out. I’m keeping myself from looking up how many calories were in that half of turkey sandwich (which was freaking awesome) and I’m not focusing on the fact that I actually put dressing on my salad (gasp). If you judge or dislike me because I’m chubby, fuck you. I don’t need you in my life. What I need is more perfect, perfectly happy that is.