I have to wonder what the mental capacity must be with the world’s countless inhabitants. I’ve found that I either "see" people as either wildly amusing or jaw-droppingly dreadful. And before I go any further with this, I would like to clarify that I'm not talking about the people who have an occasional tongue slip and say something stupid (GOD knows that have I crammed my foot in my mouth A LOT), or even those irritating, highly opinionated people, because I'm irritating and highly opinionated. Actually, I admire the people who have a no-bullshit stance on life.
Like these people, if you want my honest opinion on a topic, I'll to give it to you, straight up. Call it a curse or call it a positive and/or redeeming quality, but it's the one quality that I’m actually proud to have: a no-bullshit persona. But now I'm getting off-topic.
There are various strains of idiot that have recently floated to the societal surface that I would like to tackle, head on. The first type is that the archetypal, haughty, self-promoting, pain in the ass, prima donna with an incredible ability to place him/her herself on the highest pedestal possible. For the purpose of this blog, I shall call this ridiculous individual, Perfect Polly. You've never heard Polly so much as whisper anything derogatory about herself. Come to think of it, you’ve probably never heard Polly tell a joke about herself. That teensy, tiny little joke might somehow paint her in a negative light and bruise her ginormous ego. Polly never can and never will do anything less than awesome – ever, because Polly is remarkable at everything in every possible way. We get it, Polly, you totes rock.
As Polly is droning on and on AND ON about all of the wonderful things she has done with this and with that, I imagine myself leaning over and punching her right in her throat; but as soon as the image pops into my head, I realize what's REALLY going on here. Polly only acts this way because she lacks the self-esteem that she so desperately wants everyone to think she really has. So I pull my imaginary arm back, and settle down.
Now let's go on to the second type, which you might not spot quite as often as type number one, but unfortunately still very much exists in the world: Debbie Downer. Debbie is a rather usual breed of miserable pessimist. She's all too quick to point out the imperfections the very people who are unfortunate enough to be around her. Debbie will relentlessly bitch, cry, whimper, and moan about every element of everything, all of the time. Debbie even manages to find the negative in seemingly charming things like sunshine, daisies, and kittens. Sadly, Debbie will never, ever find peace in her meaningless life because she is just that wretched. Debbie doesn’t appreciate her life or the wonderful things that life has to offer, which really makes me crazy, when considering the countless people out there who are desperately fighting to save their own. Nothing will ever make Debbie happy and she will forever continue to go through life squeezing out what's left of the happiness around her, like a dirty, soggy dish rag.
Because normal people like you and I are somewhat benevolent individuals, I find myself in a desperate attempt find some sort of redeeming quality in Perfect Polly and Debbie Downer. I mean, there has to be something, right? But just as I’m giving myself the ole' benefit of a doubt pep-talk, I get smacked up-side the head with life's giant football, realizing that there will never be anything good about these people, because they're, well, ridiculous. At this point, all I can do is try to ignore people like this and hope that one day, my head doesn't inflate to the size of Polly's, or come to find everything around me as loathesome as Debbie.