Quote:
Originally posted by sebastian_dangerfield
2. But you've got to use a variation of "Its not you, its me." You don't need Pacino level bullshit, but you can't throw some Richard Dreyfuss level garbage at the wall...
He doesn't have cold feet. He's at thaat age where you get thos anxiety things. You recall that age... where you staart thinking the shit the cocksuckers around you are telling you you need to do is the ticket to the brass ring. He's just stressing about not being a lemming. He'll be fine. No cold feet. He ain't that kind of guy. Why I know that I can't explain... I just get the sense.
Coltrane... Breath deep and say "Fuck them... fuck them all," to yourself ten times. And for God's sake man... Quit. Get the fuck out. You're a decent one. I hate to see you sticking with this shit stain existence. The money will never substitute for living on your own terms and loving what you do.
Oh, and I hope she's rich...
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It's not cold feet. And I definitely don't believe anything anyone says around here (by "here" I mean my firm, not the FB...not that I believe any of you either...ZING!)...I'm probably the most likely person here to take a big steaming dump on a partner's desk (and most of them are pretty good people). My lack of respect for any kind of authority hasn't really changed since HS. Unfortunately, they like that kind of attitude around here.
It must be stress. I can't pinpoint the source, though. However, I really don't think I'd care that much if I were fired tomorrow. I haven't done anything to warrant being fired (or even reprimanded, yet). I've always been indifferent about money or status (they bore me).
Of course, I'm always reading shit like
The Fabric of the Cosmos and
A Short History of Nearly Everything and Vonnegut and Douglas Adams, which not only is much more interesting than money, it constantly reminds me of our irrelevancy. Which is fine. I like being reminded that our species is in the very beginning of its evolutionary cycle and that our grasp of the universe is minimal and that most of what we do is pointless. The latter depresses most people, but it's somewhat comforting to me...to know that we're probably just a tiny skidmark on the galaxy's underpants.
Whoa. Tangent. And that's only after a few beers.
