Thinking Out Loud
May 20, 2012
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it."
By: Diane Szczepanski
I'm a quitter.
I will no longer bang my head against the dining room wall when I happen a glance into my son's messy room. I hereby quit nagging him to clean it and resignedly pass on the badgering baton to a future girlfriend or wife.
Lima beans will never pass my lips again and there is no reason for me to "try it again, because maybe I'll like it this time".
I hate them so bad, if it came down to my choice of nourishment being only Lima beans or worms, I very well may choose the worms. Therefore, I'm done convincing myself I may find them palatable in this lifetime.
I've quit trying to figure out why tennis shoes hurt my feet and I'm comfortable in high heels.
It will remain one of the great mysteries of the universe why my tootsies rebel against traditional good-feeling footwear and thrive in 4" heels.
Just burn the barely worn ballerina flats, bury me with my high heel boots on and let me be known as the "Stiletto Wearing Geriatric".
Gas prices in recent years have completely baffled and frustrated me, so I've quit trying to figure out why it can rise and fall 40 cents over a 2 day period of time.
I'll just try to find my Zen place before gassing up. In addition, I will always keep a bottle of wine at home for back-up relief after a visit to the local pumps.
Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing but admiration for perseverance, challenges and the pursuit of excellence. I'm not against the adage, "Never give up".
I believe I'm just weary on certain things I'm convinced, after years of trying, I will never figure out. Deciding to quit wasting my time on trying solve their unsolvable puzzles, seems like the act of an intelligent, not lazy, woman.
Plus, it will leave me valuable, precious time for sorting out bigger, more intellectual mysteries.
Such as, why don't they make the space between the console and seat of a car big enough to get your hand down in there??
Maybe I've called myself a "quitter" too soon.
A beloved shade of lip gloss recently was lost to it's narrow crevice and although I can see it's rosy toned cap taunting me, my hand will not fit through to reach it.
I believe I can and will, inspire millions with my diligence and endurance trying to retrieve it, just so it may grace my chapped and colorless lips again.
And that, my friends, is NOT the act of a quitter.
Columns Article 7008
Business-woman by day, confessed boot addict by night and 'wanna-be' writer, music lover and proud Mom of an awesome guitar playing, teen son.
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