Friday, January 13, 2012

To Be or Not To Be....


Or "appreciation; recognition of the quality, value, significance, or magnitude of people and/or things," if you will. just want a little bit more of it. But isn't that quite a bit of a conundrum? You want to be appreciated for the things you do or say, the effort you put forth into some act of some sort. To be recognized for your doings. By whom, it matters not.

[ps, when I say 'you' I basically mean 'I'
I really have no insight on your own personal
status of 'appreciatedness']

Maybe it's your parents, your siblings, extended family, friends, old high school bullies or that one person who's opinion you can't shrug off as 'unimportant'. 
Maybe they asked you to do something for them; a favor, perhaps. And maybe it just so happens, that favor was particularly difficult for you to maneuver and work through. It took great love and respect and willpower. Is it terribly wrong to wish just a smidge of appreciation in return? I suppose. That makes your act of love, respect, willpower...suddenly about you. It's no longer what you did for that person, but what you did for them so they would esteem you higher. Were you even doing it for them in the first place? 

[I'm heating up some soup in a glass mug
in the microwave.
Our microwave looks like it came from 
Dr. Brown's own laboratory and currently
it is making some very peculiar noises.
....I'm hiding in the next room whilst it 
sings in ominous cacophony]

Or was it just your own buried machinations coming to life, hoping to build up some admirable quality of selflessness that doesn't truly exist? 
When and where does service become self-serving? Anytime and everywhere, I would guess. Tricky thing is, not thinking of yourself during the act. SO I guess I'm covered.....and just a little peeved for not even being thanked. <mumblegrumble>

There's something stupendously comforting in drinking hot soup/stew out of a mug. As well as exceedingly more convenient in situations that require hands (such as typing). 
Life is certainly a funny (as in odd, not comical) thing.

Also, in case you, my dear reader, are in search or need of a splendid "pick-me-up" I would suggest spending the evening in the company of gentlemen such as Misters Holmes and Watson as well as catching up with the ever elusive Sir Percy Blakeney, finishing off with a good bout with the piano (although curiously missing certain garments such as pants) and, aforementioned, delightful I have done. Does wonders for the spirit, I assure you.


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