Saturday, March 14, 2009

Logic and Impulse

In cartoons, or even bad movies, sometimes the protagonist shows his internal conflict by listening to the arguing of an angel and devil on each shoulder. Well, I feel like I have arguing going on as well, but mine is being done by Logic and Impulse. Logic is basically my mother. She is practical and level-headed. She always thinks ahead, plans for potential problems, and eats only organic, low fat foods. Impulse wants to have fun, eat badly, drink 'til dawn and fornicate with the natives. I tend to listen to Logic as of late. Not only does she keep me from being sold into the white girl sex trade, she calms me down when things are at their worst. While Impulse sits in the corner wailing because my head hurts and we can't go out with friends, Logic calmly tells me to get an ice pack and put on some socks, watch a Molly Ringwald movie, it'll pass.

When I was healthy, Impulse and I were like *this*. I had a very active, spontaneous, laughter-filled life going. Logic was there, whispering as she does, but my decisions were based more on what would provide the most adventure, the most interest, the most reward. Signing up for elective disability insurance or spending that cash on a trip down to Tijuana? Elegí el día de la diversión, no la vida de la responsabilidad. Move to a new city on a whim or go for more stability by spreading my roots in the same place? Move. Move back. Waste time, effort, and resources. But I had an adventure!

Impulse has been largely abandoned. She doesn't pay any bills, she makes my head hurt more, and she never takes care of me when I feel bad, just feels bad for herself. She is selfish and childish.

In spite of her flaws, I wish we could still hang out. Logic is responsible and keeps me sane, but she's so BORING. All she does is sit still and stretch every few hours. She drinks a lot of tea and water and takes care of the laundry when there are no clean towels. But she is my babysitter, my comfort, and my reassurance that I won't be lying on the couch with an ice pack on my head and the tv on mute for the rest of my life. And when Impulse shrieks that maybe it will be forever cause sometimes these things don't go away, Logic slaps her across the face and pours her some more chamomile.