Mental Health. An oxymoron. Like Jumbo Shrimp, thank you George Carlin. I'm a cat who suffers from moderately strong anxiety, and to those in the know it can be a pain in many ways. It doesn't help when the world around you is as crazy as you are.
I tell you, being a sports fan in Wisconsin is difficult enough. It's like you need psycho therapy to accomplish it.
Mental Health is and is not one of my fortes, after all. I suffer from anxiety, and I know that stress and it's off shoots can be painful, and can cause their own form of crazy, but I cannot tolerate sports fan ineptitude.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I watched my father fight a losing battle with cancer just before I got into spectator sports. My sports teams were seasoned with the successes of the 82 Brewers world series march and the strike shortened playoff Packers. Success in one at the very least tempered the disaster of the other. After all a lonely kid suffering through the pain and suffering of losing a parent has to go somewhere. Too young to dive into a bottle, I jumped into my teams.
But now those around me are driving me nothing short of insane. I work with people who act like Brett Favre is nothing short of William "Braveheart" Wallace, crying "FREEEDDOOOMMM!!!!" in New York, while Ted "King Longshanks" Thompson rolls over in his deathbed in agony.
Please. Come on.
I quietly kept to myself on the topic while Favre's replacement, Aaron Rodgers, had a nice kickoff to his starting quarterback career with the first preseason game. A week later when Brett threw a touchdown pass, and the Pack collectively imploded, I never heard the end of it. In either ear. So now I have 16 weeks of insanity to deal with in the workplace.
And I can come home to the quiet of my insanity.