Come into my mind and see some Complexes that vex my Ego so ……

People think I am industrious and I continually strive for improvement and apotheosis when in fact I am a closet couch potato slob. This evokes a constant diligence in Urs Truly about going over the edge into indolence and lead-butt lethargy. Given the chance I surmise I would sit ensconced for days, unshaven, unshowered, eating Cheesy Poofs out of paper bags, and accomplishing nothing – or so I fear.

This worst-case scenario has never happened but it could.

Happily my White Trash Complex is no match for the Inner Police who is on patrol 24/7 looking out for sloth and squalor.  He doesn’t just blow the whistle and tell me to move along but he shouts out “Don’t be a Dweeb!”.  Example: while walking past the ottoman overloaded with magazines I knocked off a few of them. White Trash saw this but wanted to keep going. My Inner-Policeman shouted “Don’t be a Dweeb!”, I turned around and picked them up and proceeded onward.

I am not certain why “Dweeb” works rather than Slob, Jerk, Lazy, or You Stupid Idiot but there it is.  I am not even certain what Dweeb means, so I just looked it up.

Dweeb;(n): a person who behaves awkwardly around other people and usually has unstylish hair, clothes, etc.

Dweeb sounds more clumsy than louche, but as it is efficacious I doubt there will be a change in name calling any time soon if ever.

It isn’t a very nice or efficient system to be badgered by an inner-neat freak.  I suppose I should be grateful, otherwise the recyclables would pile up and my teeth would go unbrushed.

Someone finds it amusing I am constantly getting up to do things, tidy up, and check off things to do when he’s perfectly content to sit in front of the TV for a this-or-that marathon.  If he only knew what I am capable of – or not capable of – as it were.

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