Rebel Without a Clue

For some reason, I never cease frustrate myself by making some seemingly meaningless topic into a federal trial...

What I mean is that there is some part of my psycological circuitry which has shorted, and causes me to argue about things, even if I see the light at the end of my interlocutor's tunnel.

This is never so true as when I want to do things in a very specific way, which I feel that I have thought through and planned thoroughly, and some poor chap comes along and points out a way that would be better, easier, wiser, more efficient, more effective, et cetera........

He may be right... My plan may be Chernobyl waiting to happen, and yet I feel the insupressable urge to argue until I feel my point has been fully heard. And besides: Who in the world are YOU to tell ME what to do?! This is how I get things done! This is how I operate! (This how I usually get away with 'qats' when playing scrabble... No matter how desperately you cry "cheater" with your dictionary in hand.... And yes, Alcove is a word - and gluer is too...)

Truth be told, I make decisions in a rather quick, nearly haphazard manner, but I am fully convinced that I have already considered every angle... The truth is: I don't. I often make decisions based on instinct, then God or chance cause the result to be favorable, and I invent arguments as I go to back up why I chose that path...

The sickness is: I KNOW that I am this way, and yet I still argue...

The only way I've found to deal with this particular thorn in my side is to follow the intralocutor's advice, despite my objections. This generally has only one effect on my friends. It confuses them until they are forced to beliece that I am bi-polar, and whether or not I argue about something depends on whether or not I have taken my pills... Despite the poor success rate of my tactic, I stick to it for two reasons.

1) I hope that by denying myself and forcing myself to follow advice I disagree with, I will eventually kill the voice inside me that wants nothing more than to fight...

2) I hope that those who call me a friend will think of me as someone who is loyal to the end, and willing to follow despite their reservations, which somehow makes the following more valuable. Right?

A few have stuck it out, and realize that my bark is much worse than my bite. Thankfully, I think my wife has figured out that I don't mean to argue with every fifth thing she says, I've just got this rebellious streak that has to make an appearance every now and again. In the end my better conciensce will win, and I will do as she says.

"What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?"