the bright side

In the game of life you earn points by completing simple everyday activities, and when you have a sizeable number, the universe awards you the title of Functioning Adult Human, and then all sorts of wonderful things happen.

It’s really a good deal, because the points aren’t hard to achieve. You just go about your everyday business, showing up for work on time, and eating three balanced meals a day, and then suddenly you become recognised as a Functioning Adult Human, just for doing all the stuff you do anyway – unless of course, you can’t accomplish even the most straightforward tasks without falling awkwardly or setting the printer on fire – then even the mundanely mediocre trophies are hidden behind an unscalable wall of incompetence.

This tale tastes of the sorry sting of actual life experience, and I’m not one to disappoint in that department. On the morning in question I had failed to wake up in time to accomplish all the things I wanted to do before leaving for work. Things like washing myself, and putting on clothes that make sense.

I then selected an umbrella with a similar aptitude for protecting me from the elements as my own hair, to arrive dazed and damp but without keys. And I wasn’t alone.

I was locked out, with an Optimist. She lived up to it and suggested going for coffee to make the best of the situation. I was all for it, until I discovered that I had failed to put my wallet in my bag in the rush to leave the house. But sometimes even utter incompetence pays off, as I had forgotten to put my debit card back in my wallet, and it was sitting at the bottom of my bag, promising hot liquid.

One bucket of coffee please.

And as we dripped dry, The Optimist and I, they brought our coffees over, and a moment deserving of an illustration occurred.

 Life points?

“No,” but ever The Optimist, she continued “but some kind of points – you might not be any use for anything, but you are fabulous!”

And that is how awesome points were invented.

All the best inventions happen because of rain. Actually, apart from awesome points, I can only think of Velcro. But they’re pretty exceptional inventions.

You earn awesome points the same way you do life points, except instead of accomplishing everyday tasks that prove you can survive unaided, you have to be awesome to get them.

The Optimist was right. She said it would be sunny the day after the one with all the rain, and it was. And she said that despite my apparent ineptitude, I was really fabulous all along. Because some people might forget their keys and drop their mobile phones in cups of tea, they might leave the oven on for dangerous stretches of time and injure themselves in ways that are to embarrassing to even garner sympathy… wait, what was my point?

Ah, yes! They might be overburdened with oafishness, but they redeem themselves by catching a bird in mid flight, or saving old people from certain death by escalator. These things don’t bring the title of Functioning Adult Human. In fact, spending all your time acting like a ninja prevents you from tackling the washing up, and making dynamic spreadsheets. Luckily, the truly awesome eschew* titles, for we have something much better – the knowledge that we’re a fucking superhero or something.

Like all heroes, we must remain anonymous and uncelebrated. Some of our closest friends may live alongside us for years without realizing just how awesome we are. There’s always a price to pay for greatness, but being awesome, we shoulder that burden and live with it – not gracefully, we’re not that coordinated… but awesomely.

*it’s not just “eschew” that earns points – also try “sanguine”, “loquacious” and “maladroit”