Ever since I purchased Doodle Jump from the app store for my iPhone, not only have I become addicted to that little sucker jumping from rock to rock, I've also managed to squander a not insubstantial amount of time trying to get my high score past 17,326.
In meetings. In waiting rooms. In restaurants. Talking on the phone (when I'm not using free call-dropping from AT&T). I get close to that score, but have yet to tie or surpass it.
Occasionally the thought does cross my mind that maybe this maddening game is a metaphor for life. In particular, my life. I sure hope not. The fact that I only get to a certain level no matter what I do is embarrassing as well as disheartening. And the fact it's such a low score to start with is never going to have anyone accusing me of being an overachiever.
Then I think, well, okay you animated little bastard, let's take a look at how far I've gotten in my own life.
In so many ways, I'm in much better shape than a lot of my friends: financially, emotionally and psychologically (that should have them seriously concerned). I own lots of fun stuff, including my house. I have a wife and two kids who love me something fierce (love is blind, but still...). I make a lot of money doing a job that can occasionally be great fun, and isn't exactly breaking rocks. And even though I could lose a few pounds, overall I'm pretty healthy.
If I had to assign a point value to my life, I'd say it's a high score most people would have a tough time beating.
Eventually I hope to say the same about that freakin' little time waster.
