Organized chaos. That's my life. Go ahead, cut and paste. Put it on your Rob collage in bold letters in some really cool gothic font: "Organized Chaos." Yeah, it's cool, I know you have the collage. Everybody does. I'm this year's Cheryl Tiegs
Hey! Why are you laughing? It's not that funny! Fine. Whatever.
Ok, did you catch your breath? You ok now? Good. Here's a little Rob-nitch for you. A glimpse into the inner oddity of the pent-up blogger. Organized Chaos. If Pigpen kept his dust color coded and labeled, that would be me. Well except for the dust part. Today's dust will be played by absolute chaos.
It's not just the chaos I create either, it's all chaos. I attract chaos like a chaos magnet. Ask MyUnwife. It's just the way of things. That’s how two days in Las Vegas turned into a week and how a trip to my friends house turned into three hour tour.
A three hour tour…
Go ahead, say these 3 little words to her and watch her twitch like a vibrator with fresh batteries, "Look, 215 south."
It's who I am. I'm fine with it, and most people who get to know me either flee or sign up for the ride, because I'm not stingy with my chaos, I'm the Disorder Santa Clause tossing brightly wrapped boxes of cheer wherever I go. Do you have an office that seems too stuffy? I'm here to save the day! I'll make it a warren of sub-cubie giggling by morning break. I come with papers, and they're not just for peeing. I am a certified AOC: agent of chaos.
Why do I bring this up? Interestingly enough, not for the chaos part. I bring it up for the Organized part. I'm part AOC, part OCD, all ROB. See even in chaos everything has it's place. In my writers group, I come in I joke, I distract, but I know my writers. I know what they're working on, I know their weaknesses, I know their strengths. I also know that if there's any chaos to be dished out with a helping of Neapolitan, I'm the one to do it. Control. Even chaos has it's place.
That's why I think I'm feeling a little rabid right now. I've joined a Bible study that meets on non-writers' Wednesdays. It's a great way to meet new people. Join a group. Find something that interests you, or a way to learn more about the people around you, and dive in. Bible study. You can get more organized than that.
Yeah you could. You could put a tweeker in a concrete mixer with twenty toothpick dioramas and you'd still have more organization than my Wednesday Bible study. We're supposed to have a pot luck: Nobody knows what anybody's bringing. The leader of the group said, "I'm going to email you guys the study so you can do it ahead of time." Nobody has the study. I show up to events and people are strewn about like a Barbie in a blender party.
GAAAAAHHH!
The sky is falling! The sky if falling!
I don't know what to do! My OCD circuits are fried and smoking and my chaos side is blowing the smoke around like a Xanadu roller rink! I repeat, "GAAAAAHHH!" It's like I join a Bible study, and God is trying to teach me about control and how little I have.
"This is your brain. This is your brain without control…"
"But God, I just went through a divorce!"
"And You still didn't learn this lesson…"
Sigh, fine. I don't know what's going on. I don't know what I'm doing. My universe is in disarray. I do know this though: Somewhere Karmic order had been restored. Somewhere the world is beautiful butterflies and dancing unicorns. Somewhere MyUnWife laughs like a giddy schoolgirl, for the mighty Robby is freaking out.
Right backatcha babe, "Look, 215 south."
0 comments:
Post a Comment