Quarantine, job loss, and not fully trusting my wife to cut my hair have all led to a new look for me. It’s been months and months since I’ve had a hair cut. The other day my clan of kids had all just gotten ready for the day. I said something to the tune of “Oh you guys all look so good.” My three year old smiled, looked up at me and said – “You look like Jesus.” haha!
Come to think of it, I’ve had this look one other time. Back in the day I was in a Bible movie! I didn’t cut my hair or shave for a whole year. I was surprised how much my wife didn’t care about my overall hairiness. But, after all this time I think I get it! She never agreed to this deal for physical appeal. We hardcore have the beauty and beast thing going on in our relationship. I’m a girthy silly silly man, and she’s an elegant ballerina. Man, this discovery is kind of liberating in a strange sense. I wonder what I could get away with. A mohawk? A Mr. Bean tattoo? I’m excited.
As much as my daughter would like to think I look like Jesus, I’m far too fat for that, even after dropping 80 pounds. I played a temple patron or some other generic title like that in this epic biblical film. We’d have to be sitting together, but if you have magnifying glass I can totally show you my 2 second long cameo. I was magnificent.
Right along with trying to push myself into this new I Will Thrive mentality, I have an idea:
I vow to not cut my hair until I make 1 million dollars.
It seems like a stupid juvenile challenge, which is why it’s perfect. The longer my hair gets the less likely I would be to land an executive job back in the corporate world that I am trying to run away from. Also, once it gets to my shoulders, I honestly just find it annoying. It will be a great reminder every day to push freaking hard and thrive regardless of what challenges lie ahead.
I have already hit some fairly large road blocks in this journey already. More on that in future posts/episodes.
I’ve got a couple last bits of mechanics to explain as we dive into my ridiculous past experiences.
My stories are not formatted in a traditional self-help manner. Nor the typical inspiring memoir of a deaf, blind, one legged, impoverished, imprisoned, drugged, made into a woman and back into a man again – guy that summits Mount Everest and then builds a fortune 500 company. No. My story is one built on a philosophy that only the Germans could sum up into one word: Schadenfreude. Simply an amazing word. It’s pronounced Shaw-den-froy-da, and it means taking pleasure in the misfortune of others. Here are two hopeful outcomes for the stories:
1. Share my misery with world so at least one positive thing can come from all of my epic fails (the positive thing being your pleasure at my misfortune) thereby achieving pure “schadenfreude”.
2. Try and figure out what in the name of crap face island is wrong with me.
I am going to picture myself in a counseling office where I play both parts – client and counselor. I will look at my life and it’s many unsuccessful moments and try and make some sense of it all. This could also prove useful to the many people out there trying to “make it” as I have. Perhaps the results of this process could be a strange mis-shaped tool in life’s toolbox, but a tool nonetheless. A tool for the many people stuck in a job they don’t love, and the many people trying to find a way to discover what to do with their life. Did I just call myself a tool?
Heck, screw the notion that you can learn the most from smart people. My bet is on the stupid ones, provided we learn to avoid their idiot-ness. Is it just me, or are there a lot stupid people out there? Plenty of learning opportunities folks.
A good friend of mine suggested I shouldn’t share the stories until I can end it with a happy story of some great success. Nah. While I really hope that this life analysis will prove useful to me and others, my past is not a “there’s an open window after a closed door” narrative. More like a “spit right in my mouth as I catch my breath, slap me silly with a trout, force me to watch Say Yes to the Dress, pull my pants down in front of the Pope, and man – this kinda sucks” kind of narrative.
Plus schadenfreude is fun to say. Gimme an accordion, a pair of lederhosen, and a pair bratwurst stat! Scratch that and gimme a pair of accordions too so I can have a pair of everything. Haha – which reminds me of this time when a buddy of mine and I found a hilarious listing on Craigslist. We even shot a YouTube Video about the find. It’s described as a couple pounds of FREE easy cheese, which the guy is getting rid of because he’s allergic, and because the guys mom says he needs to grow a “pear”. Haha! So great. The misspelling. Just all of it.
Time out! I saved the picture somewhere. Maybe I can find it….
(23.7 minutes later)
I found it! haha yes!
Just a second lets take a closer look…
Holy crap! His tie is made out of Saltines. Yes! I love this guy. I wish I would have called him. See these are the life regrets we’re gunna think about when we die.
What was I even talking about? Oh yeah – setting up my schadenfreude moments to come.
Counseling Myself With Myself
So to sum up: I will provide a collection of my epic fails and letdowns in the form of a counseling session, with myself. It’s going to be one of the best schadenfreude parties the world has ever seen. Turn my misery into a positive for you. It worked for Michael… Whateverhislastnamewas, he turned a negative into a big positive. At the minimum this sucker should help you feel a little better about your own life and successes when you learn about my overall daftness.
Whatever the case may be, let’s hope my counseling skills prove worthy against myself – I’m a tough freaking client. While I am an almost licensed psychologist and counselor, I have the feeling I’m not going to get along very well with myself. Maybe I should get a PHD first or something, but who wants to do that? In that however lies another good pointer – if you only read content by Doctors, then stop now and go call your aunt Nancy for a ride a home. When the sessions begin next time, theres 3 characters to be aware of:
Myself (Narrator Wesly) with whom you are already acquainted, and also doubles as Wesly’s memory.
Me (Counselor Wesly) holds a Master’s degree in counseling, yet is unqualified to counsel Wesly.
Myself (Wes Wesly) is quite silly and continues making stupid mistakes for others to laugh at.
So, with those disclaimers out of the way, let’s rock this sucker. Many of my schadenfreude moments revolve around trying to make it in the creative world. And really, in one way or another, everyone is trying to “make it”. Even if your life’s goal is to hit 500 pounds and spend your days playing video games in your huge pajamas – you’re still trying to “make” that happen. We’re all trying to do something. Whatever you’re trying to make happen in your life, well good luck with that. As for me – well you know my new thing – I Will Thrive!
VIDEO version of this episode HERE
PODCAST version of this episode HERE