by Joseph Vanburen

Created on: December 31, 2008

I need to be better. I need to be bigger, faster, and stronger than the competition. I need to be more attractive and wealthier than my peers. I'm not as healthy or as smart as I should be. My sex life could definitely use some enhancement. If you don't believe me, just ask the television. Ask the media. Ask our doctors and politicians. I'm not doing well enough in any aspect of my existence. I need to work on this.

So I join the gym. I put a down payment on a house and purchase that new, safe car on credit. I get a new day job and sign up for night classes. I routinely go out to the bar or the club in search of that special someone, developing a drinking habit, which goes well with my fifteen medications. I vote for people with my interests at heart. I donate to charities that are surely important. I have a 401(k) plan. I even have my own blog.

I am a productive member of society, happily medicated, on the road to wealth and security. It feels good to have a sense of order and direction. I am going places in the world. I know where I fit in. I have a purpose, and my contribution to the whole of existence is tremendously important.

It's not a big deal, I know. This is just what responsible adults do. There is nothing extraordinary about what I've done. Still, it is satisfying to know that you're doing the right things in life.

What's this that they're talking about on the news? Financial crisis? Recession? I'm not sure what all of this stuff means, but if it is on the news than it is obviously true. Sounds like a bunch of jibber-jabber, though. Maybe if they talk about it for a long enough amount of time, it will all sink in.

Suddenly, before complete comprehension occurs, I find myself in debt up to my eyeballs. I am the hunted, prey to these mysterious collection agencies. Neither my house nor my car are worth a fraction of what I paid for them. My credit is decimated. My life of dependency is crippled. The side effects from my medication (the ones I completely ignored when I filled out the prescriptions) are catching up with me. The earth is dying and it is my fault. I am constantly tired and strung out, plagued by depression and anxiety, and Im still single.

Memories of a better time haunt me. Suicidal thoughts poke at me. I can't afford my medication any more, or even alcohol to numb the pain. I had to move in with my second cousin, whose tiny apartment smells like urine and corn chips. I am completely unhappy with my life. I can't go on living like this. I am better than this.

I think it's time to seriously consider some self improvement.

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