On Being Awesome

I am fighting a migraine for the second day straight and homework is unthinkable.  A short blog entry, however, is not.

"Why," I thought as I ran like a freak from the mailbox to my house after making the nasty discovery that Wind Makes the Outside Cold, "did I manage to get myself a regular subscription to Forbes?"

I've decided to attribute it to a need to be Awesome.  That is a much better explanation than me compulsively clicking my way through freebie sites.  Really, it is.  See, I watch a lot of How I Met Your Mother, especially when I'm feeling down.  And I love Barney.  Not just because Neil Patrick Harris is an Albuquerque boy who made it big, but because it's good for someone as neurotic as I am to occasionally look at that sort of bravado and go "I could do that."

A while back I already promised myself, based on that bravado, that any time I was tempted to make one of those vague angsty Facebook posts, I should just be awesome instead.  It's the self-aggrandizing version of mind over matter. Like right now, it's not a migraine, it's an electrical storm caused by the excess awesome in my brain.  See?

So I must have gotten Forbes so that I can pretend that I'm somewhere in the midst of that lavish lifestyle, sitting in an office wearing a suit and shopping for watches that cost... Oh holy crap, guys, I just looked at what those watches cost.  That is many digits.  I could not imagine having a watch like that.  I'd have to count how many educations for underprivileged children a watch like that could buy.  I'm not that evil.

I think I'll just start bringing the magazines to my office, slowly building a collection of Forbes just to confuse everyone.