As I am at least a decade before my time, every dozen years or so, some other half-witted (but well-intentioned), like-minded spirit comes along and actually has the wherewithal to act on my initial schemes.
And it always works out well for them. And ruins my day.
Case in point? THIS FELLOW:
As the caption states, this young man has translated my middle school Halloween costume idea into a real money maker.
Naturally, I hate him for it.
While for most people - and likely this guy - dressing as a Port O' John marks the apex of creative endeavors, I could not and would not be limited to one snazzy shithouse. No sir!
I also had this idea - to do as Eleanor Roosevelt instructed and "Do one thing everyday that scares [me]." And write about it. I was totally gonna do this one. I even got a good head start: tackling my fear of loud noises by celebrating July 4th on the D.C. Mall, tackling my fear of needles by getting piercings, tackling my fear of death by skydiving. And then writing about it.
I did the first three. But I skipped out on the last one.
Which is where stupid Noelle Hancock comes in. Like me, Noelle lost her job. Like me, she set about to obey Mrs. 'velt and conquer her fears. But stupid Noelle actually wrote about it. And now "My Year with Eleanor: A Memoir" is all up in The New York Times. And my sassy ass is just getting around to blogging about it.
I'm sure there's some sort of lesson here. Something about having the temerity to follow through.
But I'm pretty sure I'm scared of being successful.
And I wonder what Eleanor Roosevelt would have to say about that.
*Image from The Oatmeal.