I Remind Me of Jesus

the Refugee has made great effort in the last few posts to lay waste to my persona and self-esteem. He made a few, seemingly, good points to which I drew up a detailed and aggresively indignant defense, deflating every argument and skewering each sentence with the precision of a trained assassin. But, he's right, I'm a perfectionist. Which wouldn't, all together, be a bad thing. Except, he's missing the second half of the equation. I'm fucking lazy and easily thwarted. You see, perfectionism can be a succesful personality trait if fueled by a dogged persistence to complete a task originally set upon. Ambitious perfectionists may work day and night, fraying their nerves and severing personal relationships, but they do things and do them well. Hard work is rewarded by fulfilling a personal vision, and a resilient perfectionist may accomplish many worthy and rewarding goals in his/her lifetime. But, for me, I become broken and distracted once the fruits of my labor do not live up to the vision that inspired them. So, here I am, after I don't know how many years of fucking education, tapping away on a laptop in a corporate office tower, performing a ridiculously monotonous and underwhelming job, writing posts for an incoherent blog that basically nobody reads.

Under mostly any other circumstance, I would have given up long ago. Maybe, I would have posted a few brilliant and promising screeds, but then succumb to fatigue, boredom and lack of immediate gratification. But, alas, here, I continue, toiling away. I respond to the unpredictable violence and unrelentingly hateful energies of the Refugee (tell us, the Refugee, what else do you hate? Let me sip on my flavored water and take in the utter lack of joy that fills you). I allow myself to be a guinea pig for his cheap and improvised meals, which may be tasty but, when described, sound like ingredients thrown together by a blind man after fishing through the dumpster of a family on welfare (last weekend, I ingested a meal comprised of sweet potato, mozarella, apples, and collared greens. Rhyme? Reason? Fuck no.) Attention continues to be paid to this blog, because I know, as the Refugee has told me numerous times, it is the best and most meaningful thing that he has or has ever had in his life. What more can you expect from a man who pleads with his boss to demote him to pizza guy? I brave these waters of insult and depravity for him, the Refugee - beggar, sinner, whore, leper, social outcast all rolled into one. And that is why, during this Easter holiday, I remind me of Jesus.