WWJD

Lately, the responsibilities of work and home have been getting to me. I find myself overwhelmed as I try to juggle a million things… and then some. I’ve tried reading self-help books on the art of getting organized. I’ve tried therapy. I’ve tried medication. Yet nothing seems to help.

But last night about 4 a.m. I had an epiphany. Actually, strike that. It was more like a religious experience. As I lie awake trying to soothe a screaming baby, I realized that I’ve turned into a big tight ball of nervous stress. And it was at that point I thought of J-Fed, so careless and carefree. It was at that moment that I realized I needed to change my way of thinking and undergo a major attitude adjustment.

I’d spent so much time loathing J-Fed that I never realized it was because I was envious. I was jealous of the fact that he could come and go as he pleased. That he didn’t have to be accountable. That he could do whatever the hell he wanted while I had become this paragon of responsibility. Well, what was good for the goose was good for the gander and so my new motto was born: WWJD. What Would J-Fed Do.

That’s right. Whenever something needed to be done from this day forward, WWJD.

I had a whole new outlook on life, and my master plan would soon be put into effect. It would look something like this.

a.) I would go out into the world and find a stray animal. I would make it the animal that he hated the most. Hmmmm. Spiders. J-Fed detests spiders. So I would go out and buy the biggest, blackest, harriest spider I could find. I would then go to the pet store and spend $300 on a habitat, food, tags, toys and anything else I thought the spider “really needed.” At night, I would spend a great deal of time, petting the spider. Then I would come in and pet J-Fed. Why? Because that’s what J-fed would do.

b.) I’d pick a hobby, any hobby. Hmmmm. Crocheting. Yeah, I’d take up crocheting. But I’d buy crochet needles made out of 14 karat gold and yarn made out of some exotic sheep’s wool. The more money I’d spend, the better. Of course, simply taking up the hobby of crocheting isn’t edgy enough so I’d spice it up and crochet blindfolded. So what if I ran the risk of stabbing myself in the hands which could lead to my inability to work? After all, that’s what J-Fed would do.

c.) Money. I’d spend it like it was water. I’d go out and buy the biggest and the baddest television. I’d spend $40 on a pair of socks that would sit in my drawer with the tags still on for six months. I’d buy another bottle of cologne I already had. Why? Because I could and because that’s what J-Fed would do.

d.) I’d call every guy I knew on the phone when he was around and refer to him as “handsome.” I’d giggle, whisper and grin from ear to ear throughout the conversation. I’d walk about five feet away from him while doing so. Far enough away so he couldn’t hear, but close enough so that he could tell I was enjoying the conversation. I’d make whoever was on the phone, even if it was a telephone solicitor, feel like they were the most important person in the world while he felt like he was less significant than the man who collects our trash. Why? Because that’s what J-Fed would do.

e.) I’d come home every night, ask what’s for dinner and then complain about what he was cooking. I’d make him feel unappreciated that he’d worked all day and then had to stand in the kitchen even though all he wanted to do was sit down and relax for five minutes. Why? Because that’s what J-Fed would do.

God forgive me. But today I’m going to go the closest Christian bookstore and I’m going to buy a WWJD bracelet. No, I take that back. I’m not going to buy one. I’m going to buy 20. Hell, maybe 50. Why? Because I’m sure there are many J-Feds out there.

So I’m going to take my WWJD bracelets and I’m going to give them out to every woman I know who’s married to someone who’s insensitive, selfish and completely unaware of the way their actions affect their wives and girlfriends. And whenever they feel like their going to explode in a fit of anger or break down due to overwhelming stress, they can look down at their wrist and think “What Would J-Fed Do?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.