“Self motivation,” I search on Google.
I’ve been having trouble motivating myself to write lately, but I was ready for that to change. I was extremely motivated to get motivated to write.
The search results were simple:
- Drink more water
- Exercise
- Get 8 hours of sleep
I decided to give it a shot.
After following all the instructions, I sat at my desk, ready to test the impact that my new lifestyle would have on my motivation.
Ok, here we go, I thought to myself.
I stared at the screen, placed my hands on the keyboard, and sat still, waiting for my fingers to get to work.
But my fingers just sat there idly, lazily – either unwilling or unable to take charge on this project.
Come on guys, do something!
A few more seconds passed.
I glanced down at my fingers again. But they wouldn’t move.
Fucking idiots!
I sigh and tilt my head backwards, and my left ring finger hits the “S” key twice by mistake.
“Sorry sir!” yells my ring finger across the keyboard to my right thumb, “That’s my mistake.”
My right thumb, the president of my hands, hardly reacts to this error. He is an understanding and inspiring leader.
So he addresses the ring finger who made the mistake.
“Ah Ringo, my boy,” says my thumb, “I was just like you once. Young and full of ambition, willing to do anything, to literally claw and scratch my way to the top. Not to mention, I used to be a much thinner finger, like you, believe it or not. And the ladies loved me… Oh, did the ladies love me.”
He lets out a soft sigh.
Remembering the old days leaves him longing for a simpler life. A life with less stress, less responsibility. A life where his every move wasn’t under a microscope.
The president had recently faced scrutiny after photos from a 2003 Halloween party surfaced, revealing the president with black nail polish on, or black nail.
And the press is always quick to point out the “stunning” lack of diversity on his hands. There are ten straight white fingers, and zero fingers of color.
Some think he should not be president at all, and that he did not win the election fair and square. Some are convinced that he colluded with the toes.
But he doesn’t concern himself with any of that nonsense. He’s got a pair of hands to run.
The president is extremely proud of his young group of fingers. A staff of ten including himself, they are able to function as a well-oiled machine and with flawless team chemistry. But now, with Ringo spiraling into depression over his mistake with the ‘S’ key, the team spirit was beginning to falter. It was time for the president to step in.
He continued his address to the young ring finger.
“Ringo, I mention our similarities to say – I was in your position not too long ago. I understand how devastating a simple mistake like that can seem. And I can tell you with certainty -”
He whistles and the right pinky jolts out to hit the backspace key, deleting the errant ‘S’s from the document.
“-Everything will work out. I promise. You’re doing great.”
With a tear in his eye, Ringo stood tall, motivated. Ready to return to work.
I shook my head, awestruck at what I had witnessed.
Wow, I thought to myself, THAT was motivational.
Ringo’s redemption arc really impacted my mindset. I was ready now, ready to type up a masterpiece.
But as I sat there staring at the same blank screen, the words still weren’t flowing; I still wasn’t motivated enough.
Even my motivation to get motivated was waning, and I wasn’t sure that I ever was motivated to get motivated to get motivated.
I was ready to give up; I was a second away from calling it quits, when the president of my hand – one of the greatest leaders of our generation – my right thumb, looked me dead in the eye, and changed my life forever.
He said, “Don’t give up. Never give up.”
“I know it’s hard, but you can do this. You just need an idea that you’re excited about. You’re motivated to be a writer, but you aren’t always motivated to write. But, when an idea comes to you that you’re excited about, the motivation hits and the words pour out of you.”
I sat silently, nodding in agreement. Once again I was stunned by the wisdom of my thumb.
He continued.
“So you either need to take your topic in a direction that excites you, or else you’re just going to have to roll up your sleeves and power through it – much like I did when taking on far bigger and stronger thumbs back during the Thumb Wars. Just power through it.”
He’s right, I think to myself. That son of a bitch!
And for the first time in months, I was excited. I was truly motivated.
“Mr. President,” I said, “From the deepest depths of my heart, I thank you! You’ve made writing fun again. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask!”
The president chuckled, “Well, actually, there is one thing you could do,”
“Sure,” I said, “Anything!”
Then my thumb whispered something so dirty, so inappropriate – so bawdy – into my ear, that I’m not even going to repeat it.
I appreciated the pep talk and I am thankful for his leadership in managing my hands, but there’s a line, and he crossed it with his comment.
Sometimes even those you trust can turn out to be perverts.
I Just Realized Something 