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Stupidity More Effective Than Sincerity?

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Contributor:
Samantha Lee
Samantha Lee

Do you need more coffee?
Having a blonde day, moment, or dare I say it, year?
Are you having one of those days?
Not enough sleep, too much sugar, over enthusiastic, not looking where you’re going?
Would you forget your head if it wasn’t screwed on?
 
Hi. Welcome to my life this week.
Today, I was not paying enough attention when I was texting, and in a stroke of pure genius managed to delete all of my saved text messages, including some with details of where I’m supposed to meet someone next weekend.
I say someone because I cannot for the life of me recall who I’m supposed to meet. (If you’re reading this and I’m supposed to meet you, maybe give me a call, as obviously I’m no longer safe to text. And you’re very important to me…whoever you are.)
 
I also managed, awesomely, to pay the bus driver this week, somehow wrangle back my twenty bucks off him, march down the bus, and then when he called me back to actually pay, made a lovely spectacle of myself, at the top of my lungs, accusing him of over charging me.
This would have been a more effective argument if I wasn’t holding the twenty dollars clearly in my hand at the time. (Sorry, bus driver.)
 
Then there was the door I walked into, although it clearly had not been moved overnight an inch to the left, and it is a door I encounter five out of seven days a week.
I stepped in concrete. Despite the bright orange cone next to said concrete.
I very nearly sat in wet paint in my only winter coat.
I tried to order a kebab at Subway.
I almost paid for my groceries with my library card.
I tried to convince a complete stranger over the phone that she was a friend of mine, and was trying to trick me when she said that she’d never spoken to me before in her life. (She wasn’t.)
I am not having a good week.
 
But did I stand there, each time I did something that very much disputed my intelligence and proudly proclaim, “I, Ladies and gentleman, am an idiot.”
Oh, no. Lack of sleep, not enough iron, the snooze button on the alarm, the weather, the phone company, the tiny little buttons on my cell phone, the complete lack of triple-size orange cones- all were blamed quickly and vehemently for my obvious lack of brainpower.
And you know what?
 
People were so embarrassed by my embarrassment that they helped me cover up my stupidity.
Dehydration, the onset of flu (not swine, presumably), too much on my mind (or too little, as the case may be), all were flung in my direction, justifying my actions immediately and gratifyingly.
“That wet paint sign is just not big enough.”
”Subway clearly does not advertise itself properly.”
“You must have forgotten to cover the blonde streaks this morning.”
 
Thank you, unknown passers by who saw me in dire straights and tried to help me believe that I have not lost my mind.
 
But it got me thinking, how often is it that we admit to actually being stupid? Are we actually ever stupid to begin with?
There seems to be an endless supply of little phrases we can pepper our lives with, in order for us to never have to come out with the actual sentence “Hey, I was just a complete moron for no apparent reason.”
Yes. This is convenient. But will it lead to disaster in other areas of our lives?
Am I so needful of other people’s good opinion that I will readily admit to being low on caffeine, so long as I don’t have to say out loud I made an understandable, albeit highly embarrassing and yes, stupid, mistake?
Will not being able to admit mistakes emotionally cripple us until we are no longer capable of genuine human interaction?
Will we pass off everything as a flippant remark, a non sequitur, something less than truthful?
We still refer to knocked up, unwed teens as “In Trouble”, an argument as “a tiff”.
When newsreaders tell us we’re experiencing “a gale force wind”, they mean it’s practically a hurricane.
Will affairs soon be referred to as “underwear gravitational problems”, and complete and utter screw ups with our favourite television programmes as “technical difficulties?” Oh, wait a minute…
 
Maybe these phrases are just an obscure way of admitting “Well. Yes. I had a moment, it’s gone now, let’s all laugh nervously and change the subject.”
Maybe we’re not all emotionally crippled and the sincerity lies in being able to joke, and laugh at oneself.
 
Maybe, I’m overreacting here.
 
Must have overloaded on the caffeine this morning.

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