I had done it by the book. I had followed the proper protocol down to the letter. I had applied myself diligently and amassed a fine big collection of preferences, an extensive collection of preferences, a serious collection of preferences. And now, with this under my belt, as it were, I was all set to go. I had done the ground work, I had laid the foundations, and now I was ready to reap the benefits. As a result of my painstakingly careful preparation I was now in a position to launch myself into the world as a fully-fledged, fully-conditioned ego-personality. All systems were GO – the chequered flag was waving and I was there on the starting line. I need hardly say that I was bursting to get started. Wow – what a buzz! What a trip! This was awesome! This was fantastic. I could hardly wait. In fact I couldn’t wait – I wanted it now. I had very strong preferences with regard to having it now. Not tomorrow or the next day. I wanted to get stuck right in this very moment. I could smell the pie in the oven, the richly succulent flavour of it. I couldn’t wait to have a big fat steaming slice of it right there on my plate, with a generous dollop of best Jersey double-cream. I was salivating with expectation. In a manner of speaking, that is. I literally couldn’t wait to put all my precious preferences into action – the stuff I like, the stuff I don’t like; the things I believe in, the things I don’t believe in; the opinions I uphold, the opinions I scorn and revile; the theories and ideas I get excited about, and the ones I laugh at and dismiss out of hand; the people I look up to, the people I look down upon; the situations that make me feel all warm and cosy inside, the situations that I find repellent, the situations that frighten the bejesus out of me. I wanted all of that…
It was all so exciting to me, back then. As I say, I was bursting myself to get started, to get right there into the thick of it all. That was me back then. That was me back when I was as keen as keen could be. I suppose you’ve guessed by my tone that it didn’t last. Sure it was good for a while. The ‘honeymoon period’, right? Ha ha ha. That’s a good one. The good old honeymoon phase. How sweet it is. I guess we all know about that old honeymoon phase. I guess we’ve all had our honeymoons – every rotten old addiction that there ever was comes complete with a fortnight in the Maldives, or the Seychelles, or whatever. Don’t we just know it?
So here I am, the fun-phase now long gone, stuck in the sheer crappy pointless misery of the contract itself and I can tell you without the slightest hesitation that it’s not exactly a barrel of laughs. In fact it’s so stupendously crappy and awful that it frankly astonishes and bemuses me that anything so mind-bogglingly crappy (anything so utterly and dismally pointless and at the same time so wretchedly compulsive) could actually exist! If I didn’t feel so bad I’d laugh out loud at the absurdity of it…
Anyway, that’s what I get for ‘doing it by the book’ – that’s what I get for following the protocol. I asked for it and now I’ve got it… I’ve made my bed and so now… Well, you know the rest. Do I need to continue? Everyone knows how the rest of that sentence goes…
One thing I can tell you for nothing though is that being a fully-fledged fully-conditioned ego-personality isn’t all its cracked up to be, not by a long chalk…
