Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Workaholics Anonymous

Hashtag Selfie

I am sick. So so sick. My voice is exactly 20 octaves below normal. I coughed so violently this morning that I actually caused Earthquakes in Burma. But the cough simultaneously stopped crime across the world so there's reason to believe it was actually a good thing and you can stop judging me.

I think I'm so sick because I've been working exactly 2 billion hours every day. And I know what you're thinking. "But Eli, there aren't 2 billion hours in a day. What you're saying is impossible. All you ever do is lie to us. We aren't even surprised that you have the kind of name in which the letters can be rearranged to spell 'lie.' Your hair is a national treasure and whenever anyone sings The Star Spangled Banner we secretly think the part about 'gallantly streaming' is talking about how it looks when you wake up."

Ok, first of all, stop. I'm blushing and I'm so embarrassed about how much you love me. I hate that you insist on reminding me how wonderful I am all the time. I think your hair looks great today too. Not as good as mine, but you have other qualities that are better than some of my other qualities so it all evens out and we are equals.

Second, I know there aren't actually 2 billion hours in a day. Every great once in a while I like to exaggerate a tiny bit on Stranger. This should be a relief to you. If everything I said here was literally true, then I should be deported from this country and never allowed around animals.

But y'all. I have been working SO much lately and I'm 'bout to go crazy. AND I LITERALLY NEVER EVEN SAY Y'ALL.

I'm stressed out of my mind working and Mr. Scraps is somewhere all like:

Then Mr. Scraps and Mr. Pants are somewhere else all like:

There was this time when I was in law school (read: three straight years) wherein I never felt like I had a moment's rest. It was an insane period of my life and one which I told myself repeatedly was only temporary.

"If I can just make it to graduation," I told myself, "I will never have to deal with this work-load again."

I LIED TO MYSELF. You guys. You aren't the only victims of my dishonesty. Past Eli lied to past Eli about future Eli and now present Eli is suffering because of that lie.


Look. I like being an attorney. I like the work that I do. I'm not like that one attorney who took advantage of your grandma that one time. I work hard to make a difference I can be proud of, well aware that that other kind of attorney is out there in droves. I think I help people and that makes me happy.

But some days I think I would be better off working in a surf shop in some beach town, even though I don't know the first thing about surfing.

Of course, last time I had these thoughts I moved myself to the Equatorial Pacific wherein I learned the hard way the true meaning of "paradise."

Maybe all this work is good and fulfilling on some level. But I just can't help that sometimes I wish I was a cat owned by a very wealthy and lonely elderly woman named Sheridan.

~It Just Gets Stranger


  1. Why, Eli? Why is it we Strangers who must use the wrong form of the word "your"? Why, in your response, do you get to use the correct form, when it was, in fact, YOU who misspelled the word in the first place? Don't you know that some of us are Grammar Nazis to the nth degree and cringe when you make it seem as if WE used the wrong word?

    You know we love you, Eli. But pleaseohpleaseohplease correct that heinous error! ;)

    ... also, I think it's time you learned to make mint sweet tea for Matt and join him on his jaunts to Home Depot, because you're LITERALLY sayin' "y'all" an AWFUL LOT lately! Maybe that'll help keep you away from becoming Sheridan's cat.

    1. He needs to be more prompt in approving these comments - I never would have pointed out the error had I known you had already gloriously pointed it out in a much better fashion than I! Bravo emelle . . . bravo!

    2. *curtsies while blushing, eyes cast downward*

  2. I'm sorry you're not feeling well (but your hair belies how awful you feel... it looks pretty darn good!). If you can, take small breaks every now and then, and run up and down the stairs a few times. The exercise will refresh you, help you focus on your work, AND you won't feel so tied to your chair/computer/law books. Best wishes!

  3. "You're hair is a national treasure . . ."

    Should be "your"

  4. I once worked in a surf shop on Newport Beach - PJ Surfrider - for an entire summer. I knew nothing about surfing. I still know nothing about surfing but I often wish I could go back to that time in my life . . . . I'm sure they'd hire you because you have fabulous hair . . . .

  5. Yes, I have wished to be someone's cat before too, all cozy and loved and constantly fed. Either that, or one of my own babies. (Don't ask how that would work, I'm not really sure...) Because, yo. I take good care of my babies.

    Is this creepy?

    1. My baby is upstairs sleeping peacefully, full belly and clean jammies, while I am frantically trying to wash pants so I have something to wear to work tomorrow, and fix his bottles so he has something to drink, and cut up his fresh fruit into tiny pieces so he doesn't choke on it. I'd like to be my own baby too!

  6. See the doctor!



    1. Mom advice, is the best advice.

  7. I keep watching that video and looking at Mr. Pants's face and laughing so hard!

  8. Also *how how second paragraph, last line....
    It's ok! It's difficult to adult and be sick simultaneously...
    (Drink some warm honey, lemon juice and cinnamon)

  9. Can you write a post on how you are motivated/energetic enough to do so much work?! I am serious. You write so light heartedly but you do 12 hours of work instead of going to bed and you trained for years for a freaking Iron Man.
    Help the rest of us.
    Also hair tips, plz. I am female and will still take them.