A Sign

Yesterday I saw this sign as a portent.

Usually I interpret traffic signs with a decidedly un-philosophical literalness. "STOP" simply means " stop your car." The subtext implies little more than: " look both ways before proceeding."
It's not very complicated- or at least it shouldn't be.

Yesterday, I saw this particular sign and instead of it's predictably consistent insistence to STOP, it was covered in fine, nearly illegible print. I had to get out of the car to read it.

It read something very much like this:

Stop. You are very hurt and angry right now and you don't even have a plan do you? I bet you're going to rush off and do something incredibly embarrassing, stupid or even deadly and then you will have some serious repercussions to deal with, so instead of driving off in a rage, why don't you go buy some pastry instead? I know that doughnuts aren't in the budget, but if you allow yourself to get too upset about that other thing, you will start feeling like a victim- and you aren't. You weren't betrayed- despite your protestations, you knew the truth. It wasn't hidden, you were just ignoring it in order to suit your own needs. If you insist on letting that sort of willful ignorance dictate your behavior, you will get hurt- victimized- and once you lapse into the role of resigned victimization,you will eventually pick up all the old habits of self-destruction that chronic victims tend to utilize.
In simpler terms, I bet that you could drink yourself to death in less than a month if you allow yourself to give in to the sadness and anger that you are feeling at this moment.
These feelings will pass.
So my advice to you, as a STOP sign and a friend, is to calm the fuck down and reflect a moment. You have no one to be mad with but yourself and even that is a stretch- why can't you just give yourself a break ? What happened to all that 'fresh start' talk, eh?


In other words, life isn't that bad. You got hurt. It happens. Now you need to get over it.

It seemed like strange advice to receive from an inanimate object, but it made sense. I got back in the car and instead of purchasing a handgun, sixty dollars worth of crack cocaine and a 1.75 liter bottle of vodka, I went the other way and scored a pound of butter, two boxes of fresh (day old) muffins and a half-gallon of grape juice.

My cholesterol and my weight are perfect. I can survive a two-day buttered muffin binge without a hitch, no problem. Grape juice, according to some, is actually good for you- but I like it anyway and it goes inexplicably well with blueberry muffins...almost made me forget that I really wish I'd bought milk. Oh well. I'll live. My stomach hurts, but in a good way.

I'm considerably less sanguine about my chances of surviving a bitter, drunken, crack-fueled handgun misadventure, so I'm glad to say I that have ruled option out. I didn't need a road sign to tell me what a bad idea it is to follow that path , but it didn't hurt to have the reminder either.

I suppose that it's not a very good indication of my general mental health that I am having impromptu therapy sessions with traffic signs, but in this case it worked- with some long-distance assistance from my friends and family. Allow me to digress and offer my biggest thanks to my brother, my grandmother and my friends for offering to help with next month's bills, allowing me to finally turn on my air-conditioner (it wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't lost my savings and my job inside a 30 day period)...fuck, I just remembered that I'm going to need extra money to buy medicine once my insurance lapses... I wonder if my stop sign offers medical treatment as well as psychological counseling?

Come to think of it, my tax dollars paid for that traffic sign- perhaps the occasional therapy session is not too much to ask for? I am a long-time advocate for socialized health-care, after all.

Anyway, I have been a bit disorientated lately. I was so busy trying to understand what was happening in the alley that I almost forgot about the traffic on the street.
Feel that warm diesel breeze? That's the bus that almost hit me.

I think I should pay attention to signs.