Seeking John Galt

So, there’s a guy who falls down a hole. The walls are so steep, he can’t get out on his own.

A doctor walks by, and the man calls to him, “I’m stuck in this hole. Could you help me out?”

The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down the hole, and moves on.

A priest walks by, and the man calls to him, “Father, I’m stuck in this hole. Could you help me out?”

The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down the hole, and moves on.

A friend walks by, and the man calls to him, “Hey, buddy! I’m stuck in this hole, can you help me out?”

The friend jumps into the hole, and the man says, “What’d you do that for? Now we’re both stuck here.”

The friend says, “No, we’re not. I’ve been down here before - I know the way out.”

~ The West Wing - Season Two: “Noel”

Thanks to all of my friends who jumped into the hole with me, and helped me find my own way out - by distracting me, keeping me company, or leaving me be, as I requested. That information I was waiting for? Turned out to be a map so’s I could find my way out.

Thanks again, lovely people. I honestly don’t think I could have done it without you.

Karma:  Well, now.  You do have quite a bit on your plate, haven’t you?

DT:  So glad you noticed.  You’re not planning anything I should know about, are you?

K:  Well, you know, I was actually just about to ask you the same thing.

DT:  Waitaminute.  Aren’t you supposed to be the annoyingly omniscient and vengeful being capable of unparallelled schadenfreude?

K:  Normally I don’t act on anything unless you’ve already done it.  Fortunately for you, merely contemplating evil deeds doesn’t count - though some of those uncharitable thoughts are going to come back at you later - I’m still working out the details.

DT:  Thanks for the heads up.  Frankly, I’m too busy to get into trouble at the moment - that birthday party, Super Bowl plans, a trip to see Things One and Two - and that’s all starting after this class is over with. 

K:  And then there’s that turning thirty thing.

DT:  Yes.  And that.  In April.  I can always count on you to remember such things.

K:  Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten.  Well, I really must toddle off.

DT:  Always a pleasure, K.  Oh - before you go.  About that other thing?  Thanks.

K:  No need to thank me.  My job does work in both directions, you know.  Here - have some Nutella, too.

I do this a lot, actually.  I forget that there is such a thing as “too much” of a good thing.  That less really is sometimes more.  That sometimes, the effort expended on the margin is not only not helpful, but can be detrimental past a certain point on the spectrum.

It has come to my attention that militant breeziness might not be the best tactic to take if one is hoping to have a mature, adult, successful relationship.  At some point, one of you has to admit to caring whether or not you ever see the person again. 

Which, of course, is extraordinarily difficult to do while maintaining a completely nonchalant, detached attitude. 

“I suppose I might find the energy to be mildly less content if I didn’t hear from you within the next month or so… maybe.”

Doesn’t quite convey actual interest or investment, now does it?

So at what point does one have to stop being breezy, lest nihilism take hold and before long, one stops caring about very much of anything at all?

I don’t think I care to find out.

K:  Nooooboooddyyy knooowwwws… the trouble I’ve seeeennnn…

DT:  Ha.  ha.  You know you’re even worse at singing than I am, right?

K:  Yeah, I do.  Just like you know you’re sucking at life, right?

DT:  Has anyone told you how closely you resemble my mother?

K:  Hey now, that’s uncalled for.

DT:  (steely gaze)

K:  I was merely suggesting that perhaps you just need to get over yourself and stop wallowing.  It’s decidedly unattractive.  People want to be around cheery and happy, and not someone who’s sulky and tired all the damn time.

DT:  Well, but… I have been a lot more tired for no good reason.

K:  Fake it.  You made it through three years of law school, two bar exams, and I don’t even know how many times you’ve had to pretend to be happy to wear some godawful satin dress and carry a bunch of flowers around.  You’re a much better actress than you give yourself credit for.

DT:  And then what?

K:  I suspect that if you just pretend to be cheery, you’ll eventually get over yourself and just, well… be cheery.

DT:  That’s your brilliant plan.

K:  Yep.

DT:  Fantastic.