In my head, I’m a master of psychology

Your name is Jonas.
You don’t know me. You know nothing about me, OK? So stop tryin’ to perpetrate like you be all knowin’ what I’m about, because you ain’t know nothin’ about what I’m about. Don’t make me cross this stage!

Last night I finally pulled off my toenail. It’s been since August when we hiked Whitney and I ruined both my big toes with ill-fitting shoes and a lengthy downhill trek. The left toe remains a deep shade of purple-black, while the right toe finally gave up last week and has been hanging on ever since. Last night I decided it was go-time, and yanked that thing out. Now I have some freaky looking inverse-toenail thing where it used to be, just the outline of the nail with skin inside it. To be honest, I hope that mofo never comes back – it was always ingrown and crappy anyway since it fell of the 1st time, when I dropped a shelf on it in high school. Stupid toe. Now I guess I just wait until the left one comes off.

Sometimes, when I have something important, heady, or possibly upsetting to say to someone – I’ll broach the subject in a manor that I like to refer to as “choose your own adventure” conversation. It’s a technique that I’ve perfected over the years, by which I slip a very important or serious comment into a conversation right alongside a joke or other offhand comment. My idea behind this is simple, the person I’m directing the meaningful comment at (perhaps a personal question or a pointing out something I’m leery to point out) now has full control of the situation. At their discretion, they can choose to either acknowledge my serious comment, or simply laugh at the joke / pick up whatever throwaway story I padded it with. If they choose to go with the smokescreen comment, they’re telling me we’re not going to talk about the serious issue – and I’ve managed to avoid a possibly uncomfortable situation by bringing it up and forcing a conversation. On the other hand, if they choose to talk about the “real” comment – it makes me seem less “outright” in bringing it up, since maybe they’re not really sure if it meant all that much to me, owing to the way I slipped it in kinda inconspicuously. In my head, I’m a master of psychology.

It’s over, it’s Friday. Gimme a beer, Dave out.

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