Some Brains Just Work That Way, That's What Chemicals Can Do.

Has anyone ever told you that you were passive-aggressive? Have they maybe hinted at it? I think, no I know I am. That’s probably why I like written communication so much. I don’t normally “accidentally” let something out that I’m not ready to back up. No, instead I can go back and edit out anything that might overtly give a clue to how I’m feeling. In other words, I talk myself out of talking about it. You want an example of the apex of such behavior? I just fired someone via e-mail because I didn’t want to have the face-to-face, or even phone-to-phone conversation. I didn’t want to deal with it. But at the same time, I knew it had to get done, so I did it. I wrote the e-mail, and I sent it before I could change my mind (which incidentally meant I sent it out with a typo).

It’s like my hair. I haven’t cut my hair in over two months, and it’s getting pretty damn long. I’ve also been feeling pretty depressed lately and spent a bit of time questioning the value of my endeavors and even the value of human kindness. Anthony suggested that I clean the filthy hole I live in, since that’s supposed to make depressed people happy, and then start doing things that happy people do (whatever the hell that is). I decided to take his advice. I picked up my apartment a bit, and decided to get rid of my beard and get a haircut (oh yeah, I’ve been growing a beard for a week). So I shaved, and it was good. Then I went to get a haircut, and I couldn’t make myself do it. The first place I went to, I gave my name, told them what I wanted, and then immediately bolted. As I walked to my car, I asked myself “what the hell just happened?” and “why did I do that?” I don’t know what or why, but it happened again across town when I tried to go into another barber shop. It wasn’t a panic attack, exactly, it was just an overwhelming compulsion to get the hell out. Maybe it has something to do with the four really terribly haircuts I’ve had since coming back from London (in fact, the one I had in London wasn’t that great). But I know that if I can find a place with no waiting, that will be it. I won’t have time to freak out and hit the door.

How does that tie in? I’ve confused myself a bit. Ah, yes. I couldn’t fire someone over the phone, because I knew I would never make the call. Also, I had to write and send the e-mail very quickly before I changed my mind. So then, as analogies go, if I have to wait for a haircut, I’ll talk myself out of it, just like I eventually would with e-mail. But, if there is no wait, then I take the haircut (and possible typos) and move on with my life. Yes, I think that’s it. And if it isn’t, this post is already over 520 words, and that’s too many.

[also posted at myspace.com and xanga.com/moontos]