Oh, Matchbox 20, funny this song should come up. Not that I’ve been talking about y’all or this song or anything, and even though I’m really familiar with it because it blew up all over when it first hit the airwaves because it’s a great song, as usual I didn’t really pay much attention to what it was saying. But I did now.
I’m scared of a lot of things, Matchbox 20. Tornadoes. Heights. Ghosts and demonic possession. But going crazy is #1 on the list. There’s a lot of mental illness in my family, Matchbox 20, and I’ve been blessed with some of it as well. Just enough so that I can function and look pretty much normal to the casual observer. But this year’s been bad, Matchbox 20. Pretty much all of it stems from my job and more specifically my numerous bosses, starting with the threat of termination early in the year and going from there, but it’s bled all over my life. I’ve basically been on the edge of a nervous breakdown since February, and I’ve even developed some lovely facial tics that I’ve never had before.
Don’t worry, Matchbox 20. I’ll be fine. Probably. If this was 20 years ago, or even around the time this song came out, which actually is almost 20 years ago, good god. . .anyway, if I was a younger man, I’d be self-medicating through copious amounts of alcohol and fast food and cigarettes and there would definitely be cause for concern. Now I drink Topo Chico, latch hook, watch soap operas and read comic books. Much healthier and no chance of drunk dialing ex-girlfriends. Which my wife, who is really the main reason I haven’t gone off the deep end, would not be happy about.
Anyway, Matchbox 20, I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you but you started it.