I regret walking into an unsolvable problem. There are some people that become obssessed with fixing broken things. Their computer has crashed. The programs aren't working properly. Something is wrong. So they spend the next four hours utterly in vain, trying to pinpoint what is wrong with their computer. The longer they remain at the task, the more frustrated they become, because nothing changes. I'm not exactly like that with physical things. I don't really bother with busted machines or stupid math riddles or jigsaw puzzles.
But something much more abstract is broke right now, and I'll be damned if I know how to fix it. I noticed it earlier today. I let it go. I moved on. I thought about it later, checked on it. That may have been a mistake. I feel like my tinkering has made it worse. I feel like a complete idiot. Two hours gone by now. Other broken things, things that I can fix, have been neglected in the mean time.
Where did this come from? As the theme from Full House posits, "What ever happened to predictability?" And all I can think about is what I possibly could have done wrong to make this all happen, besides not just leaving the problem to run its natural course. I begin to think that I am the very source of the problem. And now all I'm doing is journaling, and that's not interesting. That's not even productive. So here I go. I'm gonna force myself to forget about this crap and work at things that are within my knowledge and power.
...I want to blame my blog (which is pronounced B-log, by the way). I feel like this thing has gotten me into trouble before.
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