Don’t worry PMAO. This is not about the drugs.
Fellow bloggers. My friends. I may need help. It has been three years since my last confession. What am I talking about? I’m not catholic. Okay, help please.
I was starting to write a top ten list of things that suck about summer. The reason I was writing that is because it is summer. There are a lot of things about summer that suck. I also have not done a top ten list in a while, so I thought I should do one because I don’t want to be a post slacker like some other people I know.
Anyway, as I wrote number 9, I wanted to link it to an older post that I had written, so I looked up the older post, and as I was reading it, I realized…I am OAW. I know. You are probably thinking “You? How could you be? It makes sense for some other people, but why you? Don’t you have a unforseeable number of other weird things that afflict you daily?”
If you weren’t thinking that, what is the matter with you? I am pouring my heart out to you and you don’t even care. Do you. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you what an OAW is. Sorry.
OAW – Over Analytical Writer. Yes, I know that is hard to believe, but some people are afflicted with this rare condition. As I read this old post, I remembered that when writing it, I used the actual “Twas the Night Before Christmas” poem to guide me. Each line in the poem has the same ending words, or at least sound as the real poem. Now, I know that all of you are probably thinking “well, of course silly, all of us have at one time or another used the same rhyming scheme as a famous poem.”
You might actually be right. Just because I can write on and on for months about Over Analyzer Anonymous, doesn’t actually mean I overanalyze. Just because I can analyze line by line the entire lyrics to “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” from the perspective of an overanalyzer doesn’t mean I do that when I write too. Yeah, you are probably right. It is not as bad as I thought.
On the other hand, you might be wrong, in which case I am probably screwed. Well, I don’t know. I am sure that there are other overanalytical writers right?
Anyway, we might both be wrong and maybe it is actually the effects of a massive brain tumor or something. As devastating as this is, we can get through this together. Or I need an intervention. But not the kind like they do on that show. I’m not that bad. Right?