Life’s a Bitch—Deal With It

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. (2 Corinthians 1:8)

There’s no way around it. Sometimes life just sucks. You can’t praise it away. You can’t pray it away. And you sure as heck can’t ignore it. You’ve got yourself a raw, full-blown hemorrhoid of a reality check on your hands (so to speak), and there’s nothing you can do to fix it.

I’ve never been good at the yippee-skippy approach to crap management. In fact, those perky “praise the Lord” people really get on my nerves when I’m doing the cesspool backstroke. The last thing I need then is a glowing jabbermouth with a halo whose personal mission is to add sugar to my poop soup. People like that ought to be shot. At least twice.

On the other hand, I also hate the whiner types with oral diarrhea who are compelled to narrate their misfortunes at the drop of a hat. These people do more than accept their momentary misfortunes; they embrace them with a neurotic affection. In their mouths, their tribulations take on epic proportions; every nuance of personal agony is articulated, every woe inflated. These aspiring Jobs assume that everybody wants to hear—in extended play format—the tragic, multi-chaptered story of their great suffering. People like that make me want to puke.

Look. I know we’re supposed to share each other’s burdens. That’s one of the unfortunate requirements of the God thing—as are repentance, humility, and evangelism—and we’re pretty much stuck with it for now. But sharing and caring are two different things entirely. Except for genuine bleeding-hearts (and thank God there aren’t all that many around) nobody really cares about your problems. This means you should keep your crappy day to yourself. You’re not the only one who sings the blues, you know. But this also means you don’t have to rescue somebody else from the deep end of doo-doo either. Unless they’re going down for the third time (be sure to count), keep your nose in your own armpit.

I’m not against charity per se. Be a nice person if you have to be. And if you’re the one in the outhouse, take a deep breath and get the job done. You’ll come out alive to end up in there again someday. And if by chance you don’t make it out alive—well, bummer, dude.


One Response

  1. Haha “Crap management”…dealt with that this morning. Literally. Thanks for making me smile in the midst of it all.

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