Everyday Superheroes
Apr. 25th, 2006 07:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I remember mowing my lawn, the little push mower happily slicing away at the innocent grass below, the sun beating down on me for the first hot day of the year. I was sweating, unhappy that I had to mow, and ready to go in. I had just started, but wanted to be done.
As I turned for another row I saw the four of them. The sixteen year olds. My body immediately went into panic mode.
BRAIN: Hey, guys, adrenaline glands or whatever you're called, get ready!
GLANDS: (sleepy) Huh? What's up?
BRAIN: We've got incoming! Sixteen year olds! Four of them, and they're big!
GLANDS: Ahhhhhhh! Panic! Fight or flight? Fight or flight? Fight or flight?
BRAIN: Man, those guys are big.
GLANDS: FLIGHT! RUN LIKE HELL! AHHH!
BRAIN: Hold on, gotta do the next row.
I turn the lawn mower, and now they're at my back. My brain goes into its own little world for a brief monologue.
BRAIN: What if they're bullies, intent upon bringing me humiliation and despair? What will I do if their laughter is directed at me, here, mowing my lawn in grubby clothing and smelling like a hog? How can I assure myself that these four fellows will not truly send their avarice hatred and cruelty my way? What could I possibly
That's when the UberBrain kicks in, the one not run by instinct.
UBERBRAIN: Uh, excuse me. Brain?
BRAIN: Is that you, God?
UBERBRAIN: Yeeaahh...that's it. Listen, um, you know that you're like, 25 now, right?
BRAIN: What's your point?
UBERBRAIN: *sigh* SNAP OUT OF IT MAN! You're like twice their size, with more experience, a house, a wonderful woman and things they can't even imagine at this poitn.
BRAIN: (weakly) Like taxes?
UBERBRAIN: Yeah, like taxe...NO! *sigh* Just trust me, you're fine.
BRAIN: But..but...what if they pick on me?
I still live at a mental age of that kid in high school. These kids, reminiscent of those that would bully me back then sent me into an immediate tailspin of fear and fight or flight response. They had me wondering what I should do if they started (oh my god) laughing at me for some reason.
I hoped when I left high school that I would leave this behind, this victim mentality that allowed me to be pushed around so much back then. I wanted nothing more than to become "grown up" about such things like all those calm cool and collected adults I saw that were long out of high school that would never even dream of being uncomfortable because of a few kids.
The kids walked by, not even noticing me.
But I'm sure they were snickering at me behind my back.
Does it ever go away? *sigh*
As I turned for another row I saw the four of them. The sixteen year olds. My body immediately went into panic mode.
BRAIN: Hey, guys, adrenaline glands or whatever you're called, get ready!
GLANDS: (sleepy) Huh? What's up?
BRAIN: We've got incoming! Sixteen year olds! Four of them, and they're big!
GLANDS: Ahhhhhhh! Panic! Fight or flight? Fight or flight? Fight or flight?
BRAIN: Man, those guys are big.
GLANDS: FLIGHT! RUN LIKE HELL! AHHH!
BRAIN: Hold on, gotta do the next row.
I turn the lawn mower, and now they're at my back. My brain goes into its own little world for a brief monologue.
BRAIN: What if they're bullies, intent upon bringing me humiliation and despair? What will I do if their laughter is directed at me, here, mowing my lawn in grubby clothing and smelling like a hog? How can I assure myself that these four fellows will not truly send their avarice hatred and cruelty my way? What could I possibly
That's when the UberBrain kicks in, the one not run by instinct.
UBERBRAIN: Uh, excuse me. Brain?
BRAIN: Is that you, God?
UBERBRAIN: Yeeaahh...that's it. Listen, um, you know that you're like, 25 now, right?
BRAIN: What's your point?
UBERBRAIN: *sigh* SNAP OUT OF IT MAN! You're like twice their size, with more experience, a house, a wonderful woman and things they can't even imagine at this poitn.
BRAIN: (weakly) Like taxes?
UBERBRAIN: Yeah, like taxe...NO! *sigh* Just trust me, you're fine.
BRAIN: But..but...what if they pick on me?
I still live at a mental age of that kid in high school. These kids, reminiscent of those that would bully me back then sent me into an immediate tailspin of fear and fight or flight response. They had me wondering what I should do if they started (oh my god) laughing at me for some reason.
I hoped when I left high school that I would leave this behind, this victim mentality that allowed me to be pushed around so much back then. I wanted nothing more than to become "grown up" about such things like all those calm cool and collected adults I saw that were long out of high school that would never even dream of being uncomfortable because of a few kids.
The kids walked by, not even noticing me.
But I'm sure they were snickering at me behind my back.
Does it ever go away? *sigh*