Conscience Personified

Last week I received a noise complaint. It was around 11 at night and I was practicing really repetitive exercises on my guitar when I heard a loud knocking at my door. When I opened it, a small, but tough-looking, security guard curtly stated, "I got a call about a noise complaint," and asked, "Were you playing guitar?" I replied, "Yeah that was me. I'll stop. Sorry about that," and he left me alone.

I wasn't particularly angry at the security guard or my neighbor (though they could be a bit more considerate with their Thirsty Thursday-romping), but I was a bit upset with myself. I had received several "unofficial" noise complaints in the form of obnoxious pounding on the walls a week earlier while I was practicing for an upcoming lesson. I guess part of me just wanted to conveniently forget the courtesy of saving my neighbors from my boring practice regimens.

I often forget what I'm supposed to do with my life. I'm young, poor and foolish and while the path to my future is extremely linear, I generally choose to chase after my own tail like the dumb dog I am. I wish there was a small, tough-looking security guard in me to remind me every once in a while how I'm goofing up. I don't need any lengthy lectures or sermons on why I'm doing things wrong; I already know that I am. I just need a voice in my head that says "YOU DUN GOOFED" and forces me to playing guitar just a little softer.

As for my neighbors, I'll send security over to their house next time they play "Let's Stomp Like Dinosaurs" after midterm season is over.

~~~

On Monday, August 24, 2009, I wrote this on my Xanga:

Sometimes, my genius makes me smile.
More times, my stupidity makes me laugh.

In reaction, I smiled and then I laughed. Thought that would be fun to share!

Have a nice day,
Matthew