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By C. Jake Williams. January 25, 2009
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A quick note before we dive into my current thoughts: I've offered Oakridge a second article to announce the changing of their graduating-senior moveout policy. I plan to submit the article to USU later this week, and I'll link to the article once it is published.
Today I finished Flowers for Algernon, a required reading in my middle school but a book that I never appreciated. I remembered the premise, my friend Travis provided the title, Half.com supplied the text.
Algernon is a fantastic book; I recommend it to anyone with time to read 310 thought-provoking pages.
However, I found one problem whilst reading: My brain remembers a sentence from my first reading that never showed up this time. It is something about the speed with which Charlie reads, spoken by a female nurse. But there isn't even a female nurse in Algernon.
I'm confused. Is there another book wherein a nurse commends her patient for reading twice as fast as she? Did I completely invent this sequence of text out of boredom when I was in 8th grade? I'm expecting Travis to solve this mystery because he's reading the book next.
I did have one moment of clarity during my reading, a thought about my habits and personality.
Hi, my name is Jake Williams and I have Reset Disorder.
Yes, I invented this condition.
RD is a condition characterized by the subject constantly trying to be perfect by restarting, not finishing, fine tuning the actions of his day-to-day and year-to-year life.
I did it with every subject I've studied in college. If I missed a day of class, my notebook was ruined and I tried to get by without using the remaining blank pages purchased specifically for that class. Whiteboards always helped.
I did it with my majors. I struggled terribly with an engineering graphics class and soonafter transferred to physics. Physics didn't pan out as quickly perfectly as I planned, so I 180-ed my way into journalism.
I do it with relationships. No details.
I do it with these rants. I won't disclose how many rants I saved to my hard drive during my recent two-month sabbatical. They were not good enough, so they were not published. Now that I've started again, however, I feel no such pressure t'wards perfection.
I reset the configuration of the furniture in my apartment to start happy once again.
How many times have I re-read Choke, trying to find each and every joke during one sitting?
Should I fail to hit the gym on a Monday, there's very little possibility I will find my way Tuesday-Sunday. The week is already tainted.
If the first minute of a phone call does not go well, I'm not likely to experience a third minute.
Should the first event of a three-part date turn south, I'll feign sickness to avoid what's next.
But I'll try again the next chance I get.
I'll try my hardest the next go'round.
Now don't twist this into a lack of killer instinct. I don't mind a challenge, and I seldom shy away from challenges. This isn't a fear of things beyond my control. RD is a fear of fumbling the things Completely within my control. I feel those things should be perfect.
P.S. Does anyone know of a good job for which I should apply? Lately I'm a bit unhappy with my current position...
I must get a grip of my actions when the urge to reset surfaces. I'm working on it.
Today's video closer is the sequel to the SNL-Justin Timberlake phenomenon "Dick in a Box." Enjoy.
I just ate a grape.
After thought: Today I spent time considering an atheistic definition of sin. I decided that lust is by far the sin I enjoy most during its physical manifestation, and least at all other times. It's the worst. This led me to the definition of sin as something you intensely enjoy momentarily, and regret with equal magnitude after acting on.
But there's a problem with this definition. What about murder? I'm not talking about murdering an innocent neighbor or anything, but what if you murdered someone you ceaselessly hated? Would that be a sin?
Obviously, but not by this definition.
You'd likely enjoy the act, as creepy as that may sound to some of the more delicate readers, but you wouldn't necessarily regret or loath performing it afterward.
I need to think more on this one.
Thoughts anyone?
You were there.