Self-Disciplined

This happens almost every workday morning.

I do my paperwork at home. In the living room. On the couch.
My wife is usually still quietly dozing in the bedroom, happy and unaware of my activities.

I sit at my computer. I open the correct program. The work program. The boring.

In the corner of my desktop, the tiny Firefox icon winks at me.

"Hey man." The little orange fox whispers. "What's up? Hey, you've got plenty of time. That boring work stuff will take care of itself. Let's have some fun!"

I'm supposed to be responsible, I work with kids after all.

But I am powerless to resist. "Okay." I say to the fox. "We can have a little fun. But then, I will do the work!"

"Sure you will..." Whispers the orange fox wryly as I click on him.

Happiness and joy dance across the screen. Fun. Laughter. Unicorns.

I look at the clock over and over, but the time just doesn't register in my mind. I have been sucked in and my brain can conceive of nothing but colorful pictures and funny blogs.

After several hours, a sudden, cold realization overwhelms me.

I glance at the clock, but this time, the clock has had enough. It leaps out at me and grabs me by the ears. It looks me straight in the eyes with its shining digits and big 'PM'. It shakes me like a rag doll, screaming "You are a horrible person!"

I awake from my blissful stupor in panic. The things I should have been doing trample over me like a stampede of failure. Somewhere, the little orange fox snickers.

I try to think of a way to save my morality, but there is no hope. I awake and discover that I've committed the unpardonable sin. I am reduced to a pathetic mass of self-pity and disgust weeping in the corner.

Slowly I realize. I have destroyed the entire day. Due to my incompetence, the delicate balance of existence has been ruined. The time I wasted has created a vacuum in the space-time continuum which, once it implodes in on itself, will form a black hole to engulf the earth and crush everyone into tiny pebbles.

In short, the day is surely ruined.

I wander the house, in anguish and mourning, praying hundreds of apologies to God and begging for a way out of this truly hopeless situation.

Eventually, I wander into the bedroom where my wife sleeps.

I cast myself upon the bed. I cast my limp arm upon her. She rolls over.

I moan. "I've ruined everything. The world is ended. I just came to say I love you before the world is engulfed in chaos."

With her eyes still tightly closed, she mumbles something.
"But I made you an enchilada for your lunch today..."

The weight of failure and hopelessness slowly slides from my shoulders.

Truly, I have been set free.

I burst from the room with renewed vigor. I dance to my duties and effortlessly glide through all my work. I defeat the boring, and crush that sneaky little orange fox beneath my new-found chastity. In one short hour, it is finished.

My wife slowly opens the bedroom door and pads to the stove to make tea.

I embrace her and declare. "You've saved the world!"


And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why my wife is a superhero.