Hidden Talents

Sometimes you just know how to do things, but you’re not sure where it came from. You know how to turn a doorknob just the right way so that the door doesn’t make a noise when you come in. You know how to hit the side of the fridge when it makes that noise to quiet it down. No one shows you, you just know.

For me this talent is secretly and subconsciously trying to kill myself. This weekend I tried to commit this foul agenda by running right into a shelf. You know those shelves that hang high up on the wall, designed to hurt unsuspecting people? Why do people have those? Do they hate their friends, or just want to laugh at their misery. I was just walking along and BAMB! The shelf hits me in the head and I fall to my knees. Two days later I’m guessing I still have a concussion, my head still has a huge aching knot, and both of my knees are bruised. And alas, it was not a sex crime. No bump on the noggin due to crazy reckless sex, but another attempt to injure myself.

After this graceful debraining, I then decided it would be a great idea to do a shot. My stomach didn’t agree and I ended up puking in someone’s front yard. I wonder how much classier I could be? “Hi? Wanna meet me? I try to injure myself at ever opportunity and then puke. Pretty huh?”

I’m just wondering why my unknown talent isn’t hitting a wall Fonzie style so a door opens. Instead I’m plagued with constant attempts to injure myself.

Sigh, maybe next time I’ll get drunk and end up with a new manicure or something. Anything would be better than looking like I’m in Fight Club. Want to party with me?
No wonder I sleep alone most nights.