Optimism

I was rummaging through my freezer other day for some white-trash food. All I could find were some fish sticks and a Totino's pizza. You can't get much more white-trash than that, so no complaints here. I just wanted something quick. I checked the instructions for the fish sticks to see how long I had to microwave them for, and I noticed that the box said "we do not recommend microwave cooking".

What a bunch of pessimists. Sure, cooking fish sticks in a microwave would probably make for some pretty crappy fish sticks, but so what? Lots of stuff that comes out of a microwave is crappy. Join the party, bro. It's not like your fish sticks are all that great coming out of the oven. Stop acting like you're so freaking fancy, fish sticks. It's not like you're a fancy rising-crust pizza. You're just fish sticks. I should be able to microwave you. Just tell me how long I need to cook you.

The Totino pizza didn't have any microwave directions either, as far as I could tell, although it didn't specifically tell me not to microwave it. I noticed that the directions recommended putting the pizza directly on the oven rack for a crispy crust, rather than using foil or a cookie sheet. I was impressed by Totino's optimism. The "directly on the oven rack" method has never worked for anybody, as far as I'm aware. The pizza is always impossible to remove, and you always end up with pizza goo falling to the bottom of the oven and making the next 50 meals smell like burnt Totino's pizza. Despite the 100% failure rate, frozen pizza companies still have a sunny outlook and still recommend putting the pizza directly on the oven rack. Now that's optimism.

I ended up leaving, since we were so low on white-trash food. I went to the store and as I was stopped at an intersection I saw a man holding a sign. He was as excited as a sports mascot--cars would honk at him and he'd respond by dancing, waving, and triumphantly pumping his fist into the air before pointing at his sign.

The sign said "going out of business!" and it was for a nearby furniture store. Exclamation points were everywhere. I continued driving and wound up seeing two other folks happily holding "going out of business" signs at other intersections. Once again, I couldn't help but be amazed by the optimism. Would I be so happy in the same circumstance?

Look at any other business that goes under. Ever been to a restaurant that's going out of business? Not a pretty sight. A down-town antique store during it's last day of operation? Totally depressing. Try walking into a K-Mart that's about to close down for good. The employees there sure aren't celebrating. They look damn near suicidal.

I've been depressed lately. (I've been told that "depression" is actually a real illness that affects millions of people and that I shouldn't trivialize it by being all dramatic and pretending like I have it--but I don't know any one-word descriptions for "feeling like crap but not technically diagnosed with clinical depression".) It's too bad, because I'm coming off of a three or four year streak where things were going fairly well. I feel like a cartoon character that's been walking on air. A few months ago I finally looked down, and now I'm falling.

I didn't mean to get personal. Basically my whole point is that I need to look at the furniture store owners and learn from them. For a lot of people, having your business fail would be a life-destroying catastrophe. But not for the furniture store owners. They don't get down on themselves. They don't blame other people. They get their kids and their friends and they say "here, hold this sign and wave it at cars for me. I'm going to go get some balloons to tie to the entrance doors. We're gonna have a freaking party to celebrate going out of business".

So that's where I'd like to be. So what if my life is falling apart? Let's party!