When we left our overanalyzers in week 9, Jerry had surrounded the building in fecal matter and he was holding them at gunpoint. They had overanalyzed the reasons behind Jerry’s actions, and he was beginning to speak:
Jerry: How are you all still alive? The kindest thing I could do at this moment would be to put a bullet through each of your heads. You know they took me to jail a couple of weeks ago right? Because of you! All your freaking out. I know I have problems, but I am nowhere near as messed up as you are…
I’m going to give you each one opportunity to tell me why I should save your miserable lives.
Bob: (freaking out) You should save my life because I am not one of these people! Look, I started this group because my mother was an overanalyzer. I saw the effects of constantly worrying about everything. She couldn’t even sleep at night because she kept thinking about what my dad meant when he said she was losing her mind.
She went from making us Micky Mouse shaped pancakes, to having us make our own pancakes because she didn’t want to somehow suppress our creativity by determining the shape for us. Then she cried because she felt she might be contributing to the child labor problem by having her kids cook. Later she worried about the lack of work ethic we might experience if we didn’t make our own pancakes. I can’t even look at a pancake now without vomiting.
I wanted to help others with the same problem. Life is about so much more than pancakes. I thought I could get people together to talk about the true problem, the overanalysis that runs through their minds. I thought I could help them recognize it, and when they start thinking like that, they could alter their patterns of thought and enjoy life. I realize now that they will never be able to get to that point.
We have had week after week of meetings, and we haven’t even started talking about overanalyzing. We are still talking about everything from Walmart to the price of tea in China. Literally! The price of tea in China! Actually, that might have been in my nightmare.
Anyway, maybe you should kill me. All I have wanted to do is to make a difference, and I am obviously not going to be able to do that, so go ahead and kill me Jerry. Might as well.
Sue: Don’t say that Bob, you have made a difference in my life! I’ve been dreaming about you too.
Jill: He said “nightmare” Sue. Big difference.
Jack: Actually, there is not that much difference between a nightmare and a dream. Really, the only difference is the feelings that they evoke. Well, they can influence changes in your heart rate, and blood pressure might be different too. But, if you had a really good or exciting dream, your heart rate would probably equal that of a nightmare. Unless it was one of those dreams where you are flying, which should cause a rapid heartbeat, but for whatever reason in your dream it doesn’t…
Joe: Can I have my phone back Jerry?
Bill: Look man, I’m just as freaked out as you are by these extraterrestrials.
Jerry: Can’t you all shut up for 5 minutes? Alright Bob, I won’t kill you yet. You might as well hear the other sob stories. You…your turn…
TO BE CONTINUED… 😉