Monday, June 28, 2010
Babysitting My Inner Child
My inner child must be a two year old. Sometimes I think that the only word she knows is Why? That word worked really well when I was in the corporate world. Why are these numbers not adding up? Why are there no receipts for this? Why am I sitting at this desk doing brilliant work and hating my life? However, Little Why (as I call her), is no help when it comes to artistic endeavors. Why are you using that color? Why are you placing the image there? Why are you writing it that way? There are trusting toddlers who will quietly get through the day without much fuss, and then there are toddlers who question the reason for every... freakin'... thing. I'm stuck with the latter.
What I really need is an inner teen. I want a sloppy teen, one who doesn't give a shit how anything looks to anyone else. Yes, an inner goth child is what I need right now... prolifically pierced and tattooed, pointed Mohawk dyed black with magenta tips, black lips and fingernails, and clothing that looks as though it fell off of last year's Goodwill truck. I need an inner child who looks at things with a rebellious viewpoint, a child who says, "To hell with convention, I'm doing it this way."
Perhaps I also need an inner geriatric. Indeed, I need a crotchety old bastard, wearing nothing but a baseball hat and boxers, who summons a succinct thought with a mere scratch of his nuts. I need an old man who's seen it all and been though it all - a guy who says, "I don't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks. Life is way too short and before you know it all your bones are aching and you wake up dead. Might as well do whatever you want and enjoy it while you can."
But no. I get the little questioning, pestering, simpering, snot-nosed brat. Anyone looking to adopt?
"I’d like to find your inner child and kick its little ass... Get over it!"
~Get Over It, The Eagles
Posted by Barb Black at 8:38:00 AM