The Little D
1. A change of circumstance of any kind (a change from one state to another) produces a loss of some kind (the stage changed from) which will produce a grief reaction.
2. The intensity of the grief reaction is a function of how the change-produced loss is perceived. If the loss is not perceived as significant, the grief reaction will be minimal or barely felt.
Human beings are interesting creatures. Evolution doesn't work exactly as I have always understood it; there are still so many unexplained and seemingly unpurposeful reactions, emotions, and sequences that should have fallen to the evolutionary wayside. Grief, for example. What is the purpose of this process? Shock, emotional break-down, panic, anger, guilt, depression. But as I think about it, I remember what Pat Krafcik used to say:
"I am going through something now that is hard, and seems near unbearable, but I will emerge, and when I do I'll be stronger and closer to myself than I was when I began."
The fifth stage of grief is acceptance. I've been oscillating between the fourth and fifth stages for the last two weeks or so; anger and acceptance. Anger feels good, sad to say, but acceptance feels better. Onward! As dad would (probably now) say, "Come on, pooch. We've got a long way to go before we're through, and a man to kill once we get there." Figuratively of course.
Oh and for those of yall possibly keeping score that I will forget to tell this to later, Jeff is still kind of fronting I think, or else he's just sort of really inept, or else something, hell, I don't know. He just stopped in here and I made a point to not get up to sign for the box, but he came over to my desk anyway and asked to see my tattoo again. He put his face all up close to it, yuck. And he was still hawking his services. It's kind of just really gross and sad at this point, and I wish we could get to the "awkwardly distant" phase of things, where we just sort of half-heartedly wave at each other through the glass. Of course this is not something that I'll need to worry about after Friday. OH, SWEET, SWEET FRIDAY! I should probably start work on cleaning this place out... and by that I mean of course stealing all the good pens and notebooks and stuff. Kidding, kidding. It's not stealing when you earned it cause the man dont pay yous enough!! hahaha. Well on my way to the miner forty-nizzine.
2. The intensity of the grief reaction is a function of how the change-produced loss is perceived. If the loss is not perceived as significant, the grief reaction will be minimal or barely felt.
Human beings are interesting creatures. Evolution doesn't work exactly as I have always understood it; there are still so many unexplained and seemingly unpurposeful reactions, emotions, and sequences that should have fallen to the evolutionary wayside. Grief, for example. What is the purpose of this process? Shock, emotional break-down, panic, anger, guilt, depression. But as I think about it, I remember what Pat Krafcik used to say:
"I am going through something now that is hard, and seems near unbearable, but I will emerge, and when I do I'll be stronger and closer to myself than I was when I began."
The fifth stage of grief is acceptance. I've been oscillating between the fourth and fifth stages for the last two weeks or so; anger and acceptance. Anger feels good, sad to say, but acceptance feels better. Onward! As dad would (probably now) say, "Come on, pooch. We've got a long way to go before we're through, and a man to kill once we get there." Figuratively of course.
Oh and for those of yall possibly keeping score that I will forget to tell this to later, Jeff is still kind of fronting I think, or else he's just sort of really inept, or else something, hell, I don't know. He just stopped in here and I made a point to not get up to sign for the box, but he came over to my desk anyway and asked to see my tattoo again. He put his face all up close to it, yuck. And he was still hawking his services. It's kind of just really gross and sad at this point, and I wish we could get to the "awkwardly distant" phase of things, where we just sort of half-heartedly wave at each other through the glass. Of course this is not something that I'll need to worry about after Friday. OH, SWEET, SWEET FRIDAY! I should probably start work on cleaning this place out... and by that I mean of course stealing all the good pens and notebooks and stuff. Kidding, kidding. It's not stealing when you earned it cause the man dont pay yous enough!! hahaha. Well on my way to the miner forty-nizzine.
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