GFMorris.com

When I find a problem and really come to grips with it, I always have this urge to charge headlong at it like a crazed strong safety who sees the running play developing in front of his eyes. Like that safety, I want to charge headfirst into the hole, elude the blockers, and knock the problem’s mouthpiece into his uvula.

This is a noble thing, to be sure, but it makes you look really, really stupid when you bite on a play fake and the tight end floats into the zone you would have covered if you hadn’t been ready to slobber-knock the piss out of the issue.

I’ve been unhappy with the way some things are going in my life of late, and I’ve been wanting to change everything at once. I have a pattern of doing this, and it never really seems to work. I’ve chucked away my old sportswriting gigs, dropped student government, and otherwise done a lot of rash things that, while they made sense, may not have been executed well. I think the greatest indication of that is to know the regret that I feel.

I don’t like regret–it’s an indication to me that I made a bad decision. Anyone who’s ever watched me take on the CPU in any PS2 sports game knows that I hate, hate, hate, hate, HATE to lose. It’s just my nature; it’s not anything that my parents did in nurturing. Honestly, I think that in a couple of places in life they wanted me to get into situations where I would experience failure, purely for the experience of it.

It’s dichotomous, though; I hate failure, but I know it well. I’m a broken, poor wretch of a sinner, as we all are. I think my boy Derek has it quite right:

My life looks good I do confess
You can ask anyone
Just don’t ask my real good friends
‘Cause they will lie to you
Or worse they’ll tell the truth

‘Cause there are things you would not believe
That travel into my mind
I swear I try and capture them
But I always set them free
It seems bad things comfort me ’cause

Good lord I’m crooked deep down
Everyone is crooked deep down
Good lord I’m crooked deep down
Everyone is crooked deep down
(Everyone is crooked deep down)

There was a girl she was made for me
But stood me up our wedding day
And now that girl runs around on me
And she’s drunk all the time
But I died to make her mine

Good lord she’s crooked deep down
Everyone is crooked deep down
That girl is crooked deep down
Everyone is crooked deep down
Everyone is crooked deep down

But I’m not water and I’m not wine
You could say I’m just here for the party
With one thing on my mind
Squeezing me and my camel through the needle’s eye

The other issue that I have with tackling problems and failure is the desire to go back and fix regrets. I went back to writing and editing TOTK.com Sports at least twice, if not three times, after quitting. I knew that it was a waste of my time, but it was such a wonderful outlet for my writing. [If I'd had a Weblog back then, I'd probably have never gone back, honestly.] Writing is a drug, and the feedback is wonderful.

Of late, I’ve been wanting to go back to being involved with the broadcasts of Charger Hockey on the radio. Stupid! Nonetheless, my ego wants the recognition that goes with it, and I also purely enjoyed getting to know the guys. It was wonderful to feel like a part of the organization.

It’s know what I need to do, though. Knowing what problems I have, I need to plan how to tackle those. I need to divert my energies into coming up with a coherent plan for things and working on executing that plan, rather than just charging off willynilly. I need to make a stop on this set of downs, but I don’t have to do it on the first play with a big loss that ends up causing the offense to punt.

Patience.