One thing that comes with reading a lot of Abraham Maslow (he of the Hierarchy of Needs) is that I’m reading a lot more psychology than ever before. (Scratch that, I’m reading a whole lot of EVERYTHING than I did before! I’ve done more research for this book than, I believe, all my previous books combined! It’s exhausting! What happened to the good, old days when I would write plays filled with dick and fart jokes???????)
(Um… where was I?...)
One of the things I read about today had a great deal to do with neurosis. Now, listen, I know neurosis. Neu and I go back a long, long, fucking long ways. I got the mother-fucker laid is what I’m saying. So, it was with some surprise that I found myself reading about how fearful neurotic people are. They’re very fearful, as it turns out. Fearful over what? Nothing! And everything! They’re most fearful about the unknown.
You should probably know by now that I’ve spent much of this century being called neurotic. My plays were called neurotic. Actors I worked with called me neurotic. Girls who have dated me have called me neurotic. (But you can’t trust them. They’re crazy. Just look at Vicky. She’s the worst – she actually married me!) So, it’s pretty established.
But, would I consider myself fearful?
… not so much, anymore.
And I spent the better part of today thinking about this. You could say I was fearful about not finding a job but that’s a known element, not what Maslow was talking about. No, overall, I’m not nearly as neurotic as I used to be. And that comes as something of a shock, really, because it’s how most people know me. But Vicky’s had a good influence on me, a calming effect. I can handle things a little better knowing she’s got my back.
… guess people will just have to find another adjective.
“Neurotic” just doesn’t seem to apply any more.
(Vicky: Okay. How about “bat-shit crazy”?)