About Help Wanted

Post 541:

I don’t like being typical, but sometimes my provincial ways are inescapable. Like many people, and probably, dare I say, most men, I don’t like help.

It’s partially ego, of course. That need to be in charge, to perpetuate the lie that we’re in control of things. Pretty stupid when you get to thinking about it.

I just passed off a manuscript to be edited. Edited is a nice word for shredded. Chopped up. Reorganized and reassembled. This is actually meant to help, but it feels like a giant kick in the manhood.

Of course, I don’t have to listen to the help. But some of it will be worth taking, some worth considering, and some dismissing. The point is to not be so reactive that I just toss it all and go on telling myself that I’ve got it down.

Clearly, I don’t have it down. There may be a day when I have it down, but it ain’t yet. I’m not writing to you from the Caribbean. My current situation in no way resembles a rap video or a scene from Narcos when things were going good for the business.

So maybe I need a little help. Maybe I’ll take it. But that doesn’t mean I’m lost. No, I won’t ask for directions. You think that’s stupid? Fine. No GPS. I don’t need some gadget giving me an information handout.

Sorry. My pills were wearing off there I think.

Like I was saying… help. Don’t be a schmuck and slap it away. Cheers. See you after.