The Complications of Wading

I love it when intelligent people describe their own personal life as "complicated." These are the same folks that can wrap their minds around space/time physics or are in charge of some very big things.

I used to be one of those people (minus the space/time physics and in charge stuff...so basically...I'm was nothing like them?), but one day my brain crapped out, and and since then my mind refuses to believe that life is as complicated as people make it.

For example, I was chatting with a friend fairly recently and inquired about her boyfriend since the the event we happen to be attending usually has the daters bringing a date and the single folks looking for dates or the bar. She told me that she and her boyfriend aren't seeing each other and that it was complicated.

But how complicated is it really? Now I'm not naive enough to think life is all black and white, but it's not all grey either. The way I see it - you're either with someone or... you're not.

But whatever. It's all relative. Everything looks a lot different when your wading in your own crap.

And as I smile and flippantly drink a beer from the safety of the shore I ask myself,

"Why in the hell would a rational person slosh around in their own muck?"



Figuratively or not - it doesn't make much sense.

So as the night wore on, the daters did the dating thing, and the single folks did their thing, and I did the only thing that made sense that night - I found the bar. It was pretty easy to find and not complicated at all.

Mazal tov!