The Little Man

All day long, people talk.

Sometimes we hear helpful things, and we are grateful. But sometimes—stage left: enter the little man, a not so helpful guy.

That shifty little bugger, never invited, sits on one’s shoulder, burrows in, makes himself at home, and doles out unsolicited advice. Smoking a cigar, pontificating, he suggests maybe that we can quit our workout early, that five—okay, seven—minutes won’t matter. Don’t bother, it’s not worth it, is his answer, whatever the question. In a taunting mood, he might even say that work is overrated, that we ought to throw that computer in the lake and go have a life.

When the little man comes around, we are presented with a choice. We can listen to his prattle, even adopt his views, or we can tell the little man to go away.

Fortunately, there are plenty of ways to see him off.

I’ve tried lots of them—they all work, if you want them to—and lately, I’ve taken up boxing at the gym. I have baby blue gloves that I love like a pair of shoes, and my jab is coming along. If the little man dares to come around, I’m thinking he won’t be staying long.

Special thanks to Dana Apgar.

Photo Credits: troll – Tracey Scott-Murray, sxc; red ghoul – Julia Freeman-Woolpert; boxer – morguefile

This entry was published on June 18, 2010 at 2:25 am. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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