I am with my girlfriend. We are shopping at the community pharmacy, for condoms. There are many, many condoms available. So, I say, "Why, look! There are more condoms than you can shake a stick at!"
Everyone laughed. The girl behind the countre decided this was such a pearl, they were going to use it in their radio ads. Sure enough, they did.
(My girlfriend proceeded to chum up to the girl at the countre and do all their chatty chit, which is what girls do. I was miffed that I could have scored with the very cute countre girl, but here was my annoying girlfriend between us, exploiting the hell out of it. Don't tell me only men are pigs).
Anyway, what I never mentioned was my feeling, after I made the joke: "Right, OK.. So none of you have ever thought that before?" I felt like I had done nothing special. When, in fact, I am a precious firecracker of a lightning rod, just ask anyone. The point being: This has happened so many times in my life. I come up with zingers or new perspectives, which everyone finds delightful, if not brain-shattering, and I'm just like, "eh..."
All I knew was I wasn't living my life. I wasn't writing my book. I wasn't scoring that cashier. My day-to-day life was just a side-effect, gravy, to who I really was, what I really wanted, the plans I was making for a real life for my real self. Life is not what happens when you are busy making other plans. Death is.
Or, I could sum all this up in one metaphor: The condom broke.