Amelia Earhart was a childhood hero of mine. Of course by childhood, I refer to a period of time that stretched well into my early twenties...but I'm growing up now.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Sorry Only Counts in Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

(Or is that never counts in horseshoes and hand grenades?)

An unfortunate byproduct of being an imperfect creature living in an imperfect world is that I constantly feel that I need to apologize for my actions. In general, my tendency to claim fault when I am in the wrong is not all together bad. In fact, it keeps me out of a lot of trouble. However, this inclination of mine often tends to border on the realm of ridiculous obsession and is particularly aggravated to hyperbolic proportions when I feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. Let me give you a simple (and frequently exhibited) example:

On a crowded sidewalk, someone steps on the back of my shoe, causing me to pitch forward, flailing my limbs like a skydiving-newborn-giraffe-with-a-nerve-disease. I catch myself just in time to keep from making-out with the pavement, and turn to confront my assailant with a shy, “I’m sorry!”

See? Utterly ridiculous, no? And that is just the tip of an iceberg that makes the one that hit the Titanic look like a shaved-ice particle. In situations where I am more ill-at-ease I will apologize for everything from having better breath than a person I am kissing to thinking Pauley Shore is funny to not having seen Goonies (I know, I’m horrible right? But I finally corrected that error by watching it the other night.) to being responsible for the Spanish Inquisition (an amazingly little known fact about me). I am often found to be sorry for people disliking me, liking me and licking me all on the same day. Clearly, I must be stopped. I am hoping that I may be relieved of any future desire to apologize for silly things that I may or may not have control over by making the following statement:

I am sorry for anything I have done, am doing or will do that makes you or myself look stupid, feel slightly inconvenienced or annoyed, lose hair, grow hair or bark at cars.

There. That should just about do it. Just for good measure though, I should apologize for all the superfluous “sorry”s that you will undoubtedly hear come out of my mouth anyway in the days (weeks, years, decade) to come as well as those I have already said.

And I’m sorry I just wrote superfluous. I hate that word too.


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