The F*&%-its

Let me start out by saying that if you have a problem with the word "fuck", then this is not the blog post for you.  Please come back tomorrow when I won't be using the word "fuck" in pretty much every sentence of the post. 

I really do love you and appreciate you showing up, but you're gonna be unhappy if you're not comfortable with the use of that particular expletive. (Yes, I'm keeping my promise of dictionary links when I use big words.)  So, I'll see you tomorrow.  Ok?

Are they still here?

Pssst....Are they gone?

[peering around corner]  Good. 

Whew!

[skipping around the room, grinnning]

Fuck, fuck, fuck.... fuckety fuck fuck..... fuck fuck fuckety fuck fuck....

Ah, that felt good.... [giggle]

Just kidding.  (But really, how often do you get to do that?)

Shiny objects.... Sorry, I just can't help myself....


But seriously folks, we're here to talk about a very serious problem for the addict and non-addict alike.  It consumes a great deal of our time and is a genuine issue for many of us, particularly on Fridays... and in the summer....Actually, any time that there's nice weather really...

And, if it's a nice Summer Friday, well then, sheesh!

My friends, the malady of which I speak is one I like to call:

The Fuckits. 

The Fuckits are, simply, a lack of motivation to do.... well, anything.

It also doubles as an answer to pretty much everything that you might need to get done.  For example:

I don't want to do work today. 

--Fuckit.

I don't feel like cooking dinner tonight. 

--Fuckit.

I think I should go lie down.

Ahhhh.... I caught you out there, didn't I?  You thought I was going to say, "Fuckit."  Didn't you?

But no.

It was a thought of doing nothing so that's perfectly acceptable when you have the Fuckits.

Oh yes.  There's rules to the Fuckits.

Rule 1.  No work allowed.  No thinking about it, no talking about it and, certainly no doing it.

Rule 2.  If work is absolutely required, see Rule 1.

I think that "normal" people get the Fuckits.  But not like addicts do.  We have raised the Fuckit's to an art form. 

I don't know if it's because of our issues with Shiny Object Syndrome or our superior ability to procrastinate or if the Committee's got their hands in there messing around, but I've never met people who have the Fuckits like addicts do. 

Really, it's one of my very best things.  I don't know how to conquer it other than to shout down the voices in my own head that tell me, "Fuckit!"

But tomorrow's another day and I'll keep on trying...


Just Keep Coming Back


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