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My narrator and I woke up feeling the need to write this morning. Today I can process. But process what?–there’s so much… We’ve got the run-in with the Russian mafia which I apparently invited to my home by means of a Craigslist ad advertising for a roommate; we’ve got the roommate situation which is forcing the employment situation; we’ve got the whole sense of self-worth contribution ELEPHANT which seems to be dominating my subconscience realm and absolutely affects the employment issue; there’s last night’s visit with fellow entrepreneurs which started out as a conversation with new friends and ended up with the workings of a loose business plan. And don’t forget the new coping mechanism: my addiction to Words With Friends, an online and interactive Scrabble derivative and brilliant business model.
In Improv class last week, Seminal Life Guru and Improv Instructor, Brad, talked about Tuesdayness, that point when you find yourself on stage with the action pointed your direction, your skirt is up (metaphorically), and inspiration seems to be taking an extended bathroom break. It must have eaten something disagreeable. What do ya do? The answer: take stock of whatever it is you have around you (the given Tuesdayness), go metaphorical with it and see where that leads you.
Going Metaphorical With Scrabble because My Skirt Is Up
I get seven tiles at a time. All conditions must be perfect to get a complete new hand and THAT bonus, but nothing guarantees the quality of a whole new hand. I really want some good letters. I want the position of these letters to be conducive to placement on double and triple letter scores, and ultimately, double and triple word scores. The rub is: I don’t have control over what my partner is going to place, and I don’t have control over what letters I draw. That ‘R’ & ‘J’ look like a liability until an ‘A’ lines up right next door to triple word for ‘RAJ’. I can try to plot a couple of moves ahead, but the whole game changes with the next word. But I do have a repertoire of words from which to create. I really can play only one hand at a time. As it comes to me. And I can’t move until my partner makes a word. It’s not like you can coast in Scrabble–it turns on a dime.
Does that mean that I don’t try to make the best words I can with the letters in my hand? May it never be! Do I try to figure out ways to leverage the work of my partner to bring me benefit? Absolutely. Adding an ‘S’ to ‘TEAK’ makes ‘STEAK’ after all!
More often than not, I stumble upon these gems of insight and think, ‘Where do these connections come from–they are freaking amazing!’ only to dig a little deeper and find that there are already people teaching the application of game theory to life at the corporate and university levels. I don’t like them much–their head-start is daunting. My heart grows a bit saddish that I haven’t figured these things out until now, but then I’ll never be younger than I am today.
I have had this fantasy that I will stumble upon some niche of brilliance which I will dominate and monetize to fund both my inner gypsy and my eventual lifestyle; I have no doubt this will happen and for the first time in my life, I feel that I am not in this game alone. I see that this is going to be more of a process and less of a stumbling. It will be more fun with other people.
And so it is that I find myself un-alone, on stage with my skirt up. It’s my turn in a play of ‘our’ making. (‘Our’ referring to whomever wants to join me.) Not sure if that is really the moral of the story here, but it does present a compelling visual that makes me laugh just a little–but only because it represents EXACTLY how I feel!