Select Page

Life is a MetaphorWe’ve had a critter living in the space between the roof, and the living room ceiling.

It was either a squirrel or a raccoon.

We thought it was a raccoon, because they caught one in the spring.

We heard two animals. But, the guy who owns the place didn’t send anyone to handle it. AND he left them space to enter the house.

To make matters worse, they never cleaned up the Raccoon’s Latrine.

That’s grated on my nerves since spring.

The idea that our landlord would leave a pile of shit in the attic makes me think violent thoughts.

Over the summer, I went out of my way to avoid him, because I have a difficult time with impulse controls.


A few weeks ago we called about the gas fire place.

There are several pieces of insulation that have fallen onto the logs. I don’t know shit about fire places. But, it seemed like a bad idea to start a fire.

I imagined sitting here watching TV one night while the roof went up in flames.

We contacted the home owner. He and I talked and he said his guy would call me. The guy called. We set something up.

He never showed. Two days later he calls and says, “hey, sorry about that. I’ll be by today at 1pm.”

He showed up at 3pm. Inspected the place and reported back to the home owner. Then he called to set up a time for them to come take away some trees and fix stuff.

Said he’d be here at 9am. Showed up at 11. Not a really big deal, but that shit bugs me.

When they finished with the trees, the guy tells me he’ll be back Thursday to clean the chimney and gutters, and plan how to get the Raccoon shit out of the ceiling.


Called Friday to set it up for Sunday. I wasn’t stoked about Sunday, but the weather report didn’t look good, so what the hell. When the afternoon games started, I text him “Dude, you coming today?”

He called and told me he had to take his dad to the hospital.

Can’t be too mad at that, right??

He tells me he needed to look at his work load and plan to be up
here…. no later than Friday.

Yesterday he calls and says “I’m coming to the lake today, would you prefer first thing, or afternoon.”

Afternoon works better, morning time is for writing.

Anticipation isn’t my strong suit. I’m kind of like my puppies when it comes to waiting. I keep looking at the clock, with every passing moment, anxiety builds.

When darkness took over, I text him and let him know it wasn’t cool, and to have the home owner send someone else to take care of this. If they didn’t send someone, and we needed to use the fire place, then so be it. We’ll see what happens.

He called.

Started with an apology, and started saying something else.

I cut him off.

I said something to the effect that this is the THIRD FUCKING TIME you’ve done this. I planned my day around you being here, and you didn’t show. It’s rude. You’re being rude. And I’m not putting up with this shit.

Tell the homeowner, if he wants it fixed to send someone that can make an appointment and keep it.

He apologized again. And started to mention how the homeowner, his boss, kept changing his schedule every day and he couldn’t get control.

I didn’t listen.

I said something to the effect of, that’s fine dude, that’s between you and him. Figure it out. Handle your shit. But, in the mean time, send someone up here to do what you should have done two weeks ago.

He was polite, and said, Again. I’m sorry. I’ll call the homeowner and relay the message.

A few minutes later…

I’m sitting over a bowl of purple rice and the most amazing pulled pork BBQ that I’ve ever had. It’s one of my favorite flavors… the pork, not the rice. But, for whatever reason, it didn’t taste all that good.

Three bites into it and nothing. I might as well been eating styrofoam. Isn’t that weird.

For me, whenever I yell at someone, whenever I think my words or actions may have hurt someone’s feelings, nothing feels right to me.

I texted him: Sorry, I raised my voice at you.

The next bite was divine. It didn’t matter if he accepted it. I felt better.

Then, as I went to grab another N/A beer, it dawned on me…

The metaphor….

It became painfully clear how many times I lie to myself, and say I’ll do one thing at a particular time, and I don’t.

Sometimes I catch it, call myself out, and find several excuses why
I didn’t show up when I said I would.

Most of the time, it goes unnoticed.

Last night after dinner. I threw away my running list of lies; the things I keep saying I’ll do that never get done. Then grabbed a 3X5 Note Card and carefully chose items that require my immediate attention.

And I’m committed to two things:

First, stop lying to myself and get shit done.

Second, keep working on being an open, kind, and loving man, so that I can find a strategy that allows me to speak my mind, without being such a dick.

What I do like about this story, is the fact that such a little thing bothers me so much.

I choked back tears thinking that I was mean to another grown man, just like I did when I was six years old and hurt someone.

I like that about me.

Hope this story helps you as much as living it helped me.

Remember, ‪#‎JustBeNice‬.

It’s not always easy. Trust me I know. It feels good to stand up for yourself and tell someone off.

But, it’s not the way to move forward. It’s not helpful. It’s adding to the stress the other people feel.

Love your face!


PS. The guy text back. “It’s ok. I completely understand.”

Which oddly enough, didn’t help: he’s such a cool guy, other than the fact he can’t keep an appointment.