Mr. Scrooge

I know it's not even really the holidays, but I'm sick of it all already. My wife is already putting up christmas decorations, Work is following suit and it's not even Thanksgiving. I just put on my happy face for a few weeks, then I get to go back to being a grumpy old bastard the rest of the year. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm a real life Mr. Scrooge. That is, without all the money and my own Bob cratchett to push around.

In other news; The army has a saying that deals with a lack of leadership in a given situation. If you act like you're in charge eventually people will just follow. In some ways this has been true at work. I'm not in charge of shit, but without a direct supervisor I've become the de facto boss. I like it. Although, I'd like the paycheck alot better. I've been assigned to train the new guys and they come and report to me every night. All I have to do now is stay in this dead end job another ten years and I've have my own drone of minions that will do everything the way I think is best.

Lately I've been checking out alot of new blogs for inspiration, I've hit a little bit of writers block. I need to steal ideas, so sue me. Any way I've come across Bottle blonde. She's pretty damned hilarious (said with an extra emphasis on the "I"). She's perverted and sarcastic. I've always found sarcastic women kinda sexy. I'd rather have a loud sarcastic bitch than a quiet June Cleaver type. Anyway, go read her blog, hopefully she'll never know I have an internet crush on her even though she didn't really give me any ideas about what to write.

I did come to the realization that I'm getting a little older now. In my day (yeah I really said that , and no I'm not eighty years old). I could pack em away. Sunday I went over to a buddies house to watch football and burn stuff, can't really say which was better. Living in the ozarks definitely means burning shit, especially when fireworks become involved can rank right on up there with the NFL. Anyway, I digress. I drank a six pack and about about five mixed drinks, several of which were egg based. My friend and all of his buddies seem to have some weird fascination with egg nog and anything else they can put an egg in. It's really quite scary. After consuming my drinks at 20 I'd be just getting started, ready to party till dawn. Now, I went home at 8 30 exhausted barely unable to keep my eyes open to feed my child. Getting old sucks, and I'm not even thirty, I just live and old lifestyle now. I've finally been drug into the "real" world.

For all the advancements medicine has made, it can't do a damned thing about getting old. Sure we can keep you alive untill you're 906 years old. but in that condition is it really any better than being eaten by worms? Didn't think so. My wife is doing her clinical rotations for nursing school and she keeps coming home to tell me stories about feeding people or changing their adult diapers, or dressing them. My guess is that she wants a pat on the back. She wants me to tell her how wonderful and caring she is, in reality, all I can think is "Are my tax dollars seriously being spent on a 96 year old bitch that can't pull up her own pants, can't wipe her own ass and can't fucking feed herself. How does it help society to keep this kind of person around?

Like I said I'm a real life Mr. Scrooge but isn't it about time for us to look at the world a little more realistically? Isn't it more important that something have utilitarian value rather than just aesthetic value, or in the case of my wife's patient, any value at all?