This morning I had a harder time getting going than usual. It’s always more difficult on Mondays, but today I felt like throwing my clock through the window. Part of the problem might be that I wake up every morning feeling that my toes are blocks of ice. Something happens to the air in my house between the hours of 11:30pm and 6:00am, because I usually go to sleep with a case of night sweats and wake up feeling like I’m in bed with a dead person. It’s a little scary that there have been several occasions where each of my roommates have been positive that we have heard noises that couldn’t possibly have come from a person and or animal, so I’m really hoping the chilliness isn’t a result of the supernatural, though that would be kinda cool. If I didn’t have an intense urge to pee from the copious amounts of water I drink every night before bed (an effort to prevent a hangover,) there would probably be no chance of me getting out from under my warm blankets, ever.
This morning though, I was more thoughtful than I usually am at 6:30 in the morning. On average, the most brain work I do is an attempt to figure out what Al Roker thinks is so funny about what he just said on the Today Show.
Today though, was one of those mornings when I start questioning everything. “What the hell am I doing with my life?” “If I go back to school, will I be able to start a career in something I’m really passionate about?” “Should I wear my hair curly or straight?”
As I was driving to work, and wishing for a magical solution to all of life’s questions, I couldn’t help but recall a time not too long ago when a friend of mine was seeking similar advice.
I remember we were driving back from the bar, and he was a little more tipsy than usual. He is a talker, and spent the majority of the ride asking what he should do about a current relationship- that he wasn’t in. Although he continually asked what he should do, he didn’t really want to our opinions- for they were not the opinions that he wanted to hear.
All of a sudden he reached up and hit the Onstar button on my friend’s new Tahoe. The rest of us in the car didn’t really know how to respond to his action- and were possibly a little too curious about why he would be pushing Onstar to put a stop to it.
Onstar lady: “Hello this is Onstar, how may I help you”
The details are a little fuzzy, as I was a little tipsy myself- so don’t mind my paraphrasing.
My Friend: “umm.. yeahh, I was needing a little help…”
Onstar Lady: “Yessir, what can I do to help you? Do you need roadside assistance? Do you need directions?
My friend: “ Well you see there’s this girl that I like… I don’t know. She is acting like a total bitch.”
My other friend and I can barely contain our laughter at this point, but go ahead and let it continue.
My friend: “ I mean I just don’t know what to do…”
Onstar Lady: “Um sir… I can’t help you with that situation, that’s not what we’re here for.”
My friend: “ What? that is what you’re supposed to be there for.. to help…”
While it was impossible to not burst out into laughter, I had to consider how truly genuinely desperate my friend sounded.
At this point you could tell the operator was starting to get a little annoyed, as she allowed her attitude to start to show through.
Onstar lady: “Uh no sir. We give help to people – help like direct-shuns. Sir you need to go somewhere else with yo problems….”
My friend: “But I do need directions!!! Life directions!!!!”
It was at this point we had to cut the conversation short, before the Onstar lady pointed out our location to a cop, although I have to say that she had to have been at least a little amused to take this call in the midst of a hundred other mundane “real’ direction calls.
As funny as this was, how great would it be if there really were a service to give us advice on our problems? I mean I know there are psychologists and therapists and what not, but I want something to just tell me what to do, not help me to make my own decisions. I’m talking about something similar to a human 8ball, at our disposal twenty four hours a day to tell me things like whether I should have Thai food or a sandwich for dinner. It is so much easier to take advice from people we don’t really know in real life. I guess that’s what we have to look forward to with robots…
Anyways, only slightly related, I heard some good news today.
I just got wind that Bob Dylan is in the talks with several companies to do a GPS voiceover. If I get my hand on one of these, it could be major trouble for anyone who has to spend any amount of time with me. How awesome would it be to listen to Dylan talk for about ten minutes, just to find out all he really wants you to do is make a U-turn at Elm St. And you know I already have a hard enough time refraining from infiltrating my current GPS system’s Australian accent into my everyday life. “Turn Lift at the next ixit.” (That’s about how good my Australian accent is in real life too.)
And if you know me at all, you know that I have an extra hard time resisting “Bob Dylan” talk any time his I hear his name mentioned.