I was thinking of listing my Christmas resolutions before I realized I didn't have any. What I *did* have was this idea that Christmas resolutions would be much better than New Year ones because it would be fine if they expired in a week.
What may have started me thinking about all this was my unhappiness with being surrounded by people who jump to conclusions, just like I do. In fact, the only difference may be that I don't see it when I do, which is coincidentally the same thing I notice about being hypocritical. I'm not, but I sometimes think everyone I've ever met is.
The lastest trigger for my exercise in leaping to a conclusion came early this morning when I noticed the outdoor lights no longer worked. The switch was up, which should have bathed the front yard in festive, sparkling icicle light, but wasn't. I flipped the switch a few times, and it felt loose and funny, so I concluded that it had been broken yesterday when people were hauling all the luggage out to the car.
Someone, and that would be someone who wasn't me, must have been sloppy and hit the light switch sideways, breaking it. I would never do that, I'm always careful, or at least aware of what I'm doing, so I made a short list of culprits. I would don my martyr suit tomorrow, ride out and get and replace the light switch, and keep my mouth closed, taking the secret to my grave.
That grave, I realized, might come quickly since I tend to work on electricity without always shutting off the breakers. I've seen pros work on live circuits and have always been impressed by that, so I figure that's the way to do it.
Anyway, later in the day I was taking out the trash cans for collection and noticed that the string of lights was only partially plugged into the extension cord. When I shoved the plug all the way in, the lights blazed forth as only several hundred mini light bulbs can, and I was pleased.
Not pleased that I'd tarnished the name of a family member and had accused her of breaking the switch, but glad that I wouldn't have to ride out and find a replacement light switch. There's little to be gained by fixing something no one knows is broken, and if you know me it's all about getting recognition and milking it for all it's worth.
Shallow, I know, but having labored for years under the delusion that a good deed is negated if someone knows you've done it, trust me, that whole "do a good deed every day and don't get caught" practice is overblown. Sure it makes me feel better, but I'm not sure I want to be swamped with secrets on my way across the Styx.
Grind, Returning to
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2 comments:
What makes it possible for people to communicate (jumping to conclusions, guessing what people are trying to say) is often the same thing that prevents communication.
I have a light story too. One morning after an ice storm both the porch lights were out. I jumped to a conclusion. I figured that both lights couldn't have possibly gone out on the same night, so the problem must be with the photosensor that turns the lights on. I went out to the hardware store, bought a new photosensor, installed it, but the lights still didn't work. I tried replacing one. It came on. I replaced the other. It came on. Nothing wrong with the photosensor after all. Oh well. I guess that just proves that coincidences do happen.
Coincidences, I think, happen much more frequently than some realize, and nearly as often as happenstance, which never gets any credit.
I need to remember your porch light story.
Considering how much second-guessing and assuming is required for conversation, it's amazing we can communicate at all. It will be a field day for linguists if we ever meet up with an alien civilization.
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