A Bowl of Stupid

The sheer stupidity to which I sometimes live up to the title of this blog is staggering. And for how much insight I can often glean when reading people in how they deal with others, it is also staggering at just HOW wrong I usually am when I try to apply that same insight into my own life (the only reason I know is when people have told me months, or even years, after the fact).

But more distressful than either of those things is the fact that, even after all these years, I still sometimes pout like a little boy when things don’t go my way.

I’ve always been a brat, yes, that’s true. But I had conquered (or at least begun to master) the silly little temper tantrums I used to throw when things didn’t go my way.

But all this living alone, and doing everything I want, and going wherever I want, whenever and however I want — day in and day out for the last 3 years — has softened me up again to the point where I’ve forgotten how to deal with things, and people, when I DON’T get to do what I want. And I’ve returned to that place I was at when I was a stupid little boy — acting like a complete ass until I get my way.

It is not who I am. And, after a couple days reflection, I just want to beat myself about the head and neck with a handful of cocktail straws. But unfortunately, it’s something I need to deal with again.

For the moment, I’m too tired, and too angry with myself to explore — in words, at least — how best to deal with my apparent loss of maturity and self-control. And I’m hunkering down against a massive case of sensory overload and culture shock here in Sydney right now.

I really am a bit worried about how, and if, I’ll be able to readjust when I finally do return to the herd.

With that being said, I’m heading out of Sydney to visit friends in Melbourne for several days. Then I may stay with another friend in the small coastal town of Woolongong to get some surf, and try to clear my head a bit. Because it’s all just a bit much at the moment.