Prior to last week I had never heard the term "zero-sum" before, and now I've heard it three times. The universe wants me to make a post about zero sum.
I've been reading The Happiness Project, and the author talks about zero-sum in terms of feeling happy for other people's successes. I realize that I've had this attitude, and it's pretty sick: the idea that because someone else succeeds, I can't, as there's only so much success to go around. I feel like this hinders me from continuing projects, (sometimes), and keeps me from feeling joy about other people's good luck/fortune/work/etc, (sometimes). (I also realized - a while ago - that I don't believe in absolutes - mostly).
Speaking of other people's success, Lennon, Eirik, and our friend Ruckus are going on a slam poetry tour this summer. I'm 70% jealous and 30% certain that I hate Greyhound buses and sitting next to strangers with any potential for drooling.
This is the two of them doing a jig to impress people on South Congress. It actually worked.
I tried to help but got bored holding the sign after five... oh something shiny.
So clearly my back-up plan for work should be risque modeling, as in this photo. Nice khaki's and polo, oddly reminiscent of my Bennigan's uniform... oh wait, it was. And I'm wearing it again by choice. Somedays I just don't try... and hope there's no camera around.
I do write poetry, and since it's national poetry month, what better time to advertise my poetry blog? It can be found here. I forget to update it, as I haven't been taking the time to write poetry like I should. This is one of the reasons I can't go on tour. That, and stage fright. And my day job. I'm too practical for my own good, (sometimes).
So I'm going to start putting zero-sum to rest: my success in anything is not dependent on the failure of others. Life doesn't have a first place prize, and Greyhound just doesn't have enough leg room to merit traveling the country... or so I'll tell myself.
And here's one more life lesson for the proverbial road: if your ex-boyfriend who you still live with for seven more days is making you mad, go find a slug on the recycling bin, put it on his keyboard when he gets up from World of Warcraft to go to the bathroom, then watch him scream like a child and suddenly become nice as he asks you to get rid of it. Works like a charm.