I’ve Been Holding my Breath While I Type This Post, so Please Excuse Me While I Look Up How to Exhale Before I Black Out
I nearly had a full-on anxiety attack the other day while I was driving because I don’t know how to cobble shoes.
I was thinking about one of my shoes, which had broken. Then I was thinking about how I can’t afford to keep buying new shoes every time one breaks. Then I was thinking about how I can barely afford to repair them, either, because the last time I took one in for repair they charged me $1000 just to put a cap on one heel. This reminded me of a newspaper article I read about a very trustworthy shoe repair shop in the area that I’m pretty sure has reasonable rates, but the owner had to close because he has pancreatic cancer. This led to a brief regret that I haven’t learned how to cure cancer yet. But then I realized that even if I knew how to cure cancer, I would still have broken shoes, and the number of master shoe craftsmen is dwindling every day. Which led to the obvious conclusion that I better get on the internet and find a YouTube video about fixing shoes or I am going to be going barefoot for the rest of my life.
And then I started hyperventilating because there are so many things that I need to learn how to do, and there is not enough time.
It was all fine 20 years ago when there was no YouTube, and the only way you could learn how to cobble shoes was to fly your butt down to Italy, and find yourself some old man in a little village who would be willing to take you on as an apprentice. I mean, it was obvious, then, that it was not my responsibility to become an amateur shoemaker.
But now that the skills are only a few keyboard strokes away, I feel that it is incumbent on me to become an expert so I will not cut my feet on shards of glass when the world ends.
The problem is, according to the internet, I also need to learn:
how to automate Windows with PowerShell (I have to confess, I thought we were talking about car windows, which mine are already automated, so this seemed superfluous until I realized this had nothing to do with cars or windows.)
I mean, it just seems lazy to admit that I don’t know how to do something when there are so many free resources available. You might argue that because they are on the internet I don’t need to learn them, just refer to them when the need arises. But what if the internet DIES? And then I need to learn how to be patient with the zombies who are attacking me and the only way to evade them is to dress like Lady Gaga and douse myself in homemade beer to mask my scent? And I could have referred to daguerrotypes of the pop diva if I had ever bothered to learn how to preserve them. I’m going to feel pretty stupid, then, that I didn’t make use of those lessons when I could.
It’s clear now what I need to do.
Quit work so I can learn these valuable skills before it’s too late.