CSotD: Friday Funnies, post-holiday edition

That last panel of today’s Sherman’s Lagoon could be a poster.

However, I appreciate the lead up, in which it becomes my fault that I didn’t notice your anguish without your having to say, “I’m in a crappy mood” or “Boy, have I had a lousy day.”

Because why should you miss the chance to add a complaint about my insensitivity to your sad litany?

Which brings us to our first

Juxtaposition of the Day

(Pros and Cons)

 

(Pardon My Planet)

You have to know the characters in Pros and Cons to get the joke, but it’s a terrific reward for regular readers. Stan, the cop, is way too much of a tough-guy to ever ask for help, while Lyndon is a shrink who would, as here, be delighted to have someone like Stan break down and admit he wanted help.

With something less pragmatic than a police investigation of the guys in the next office.

And then Pardon My Planet reverses the gag, because, while it’s too late for the dearly departed to discuss his problems with an analyst, it’s never too late for a “life coach.”

Let me slip in an Andertoons here:

 

“Life Coach” is to “Analyst” as “Wealth Advisor” is to “Financial Planner.”

I’ve said before that anyone who wants to advise you about your wealth is looking for a chunk of it, and while a “life coach” isn’t looking for an actual chunk of your life, well, they’re looking for an emotional investment you should probably decline to make.

And in that particular case, since we’re confronting the hereafter, you should be frank about what you’re here after. (rimshot)

Maybe I have too much Stan in my personality, but I’m more likely to confide in someone with a frank, unadorned job title than in someone who feels the need for frills. And bullshit.

Let’s come to grips with what you are before we worry about my needs.

As to the Andertoons itself, analogies are something like dreaming in color or being able to read upside-down that I didn’t realize were not universal until someone pointed it out.

I was in seventh grade when a writing prompt in our English textbook said, “Did you know that some people dream in color?” and my response was that I didn’t know anybody didn’t.

Apparently, looking it up, it’s not a matter of whether you dream in color but whether you have strong memories of your dreams.

I don’t know if my dreams being indistinguishable from my waking life is a good thing or a bad thing, but I’m inclined to think it means I’m getting twice as much out of life than other people.

Though half of my existence tends to be long on surrealism and short on logic and continuity.

Which half tends to vary from day to day.

In any case, I was also surprised the first time I saw someone complaining about the analogies on the SAT because I always found that the easiest part of the test, to the point of “Why is this even here?”

I suspect that’s a facet of being ADHD, which is also why ADHD people, and Aspies, do so well at Jeopardy! and other quick-recall games: When you say a term, like “Russia” or “carbon dioxide,” all our file drawers containing anything about that topic fly open at once, and then, as you narrow the question, we start closing them until there’s only one left, and that’s the answer.

Maybe that’s how everyone answers questions, but I guess it’s not because otherwise everyone would be on Jeopardy! and nobody would complain about the analogies on the SAT.

And we with ADHD or Aspergers wouldn’t be so easily distracted by something in a drawer that wasn’t the answer but was fascinating anyway.

Meanwhile, here’s a slightly related

Juxtaposition of the Day

(Dogs of C Kennel)

 

(Rubes)

Dogs of C Kennel simply reminds me of the difference between my ridgeback, who has no undercoat and so hates both rain and snow, and dogs that are fluffy and weatherproof.

He thinks that outdoors is a fun place in summertime, but once the cold has set in, it is strictly a bathroom and he spends no more time there than it takes.

Rubes then hits my ridgebacks again, because they’ve all respected fences even when they had gaps. I wouldn’t even know the fence was flawed until someone else’s dog came to visit and began pointing out the escape routes to my dog.

When I moved East, younger son stayed a year out West with his mother, but then joined his brother and me, bringing along a used Labrador retriever she had adopted on his behalf.

The Lab promptly began finding all the flaws in our fencing, and the ridgeback would cheerfully go with him, the good part being that, because the chief perp was a Lab, all we had to do was head for the lake, where we would find the ringleader joyfully cavorting in the water while his co-conspirator stood on the shore watching him but avoiding getting wet.

Now here’s a

Juxtaposition of the Holidays

 

(Adam@Home)

 

(The Buckets)

Minor holidays are easy when you’re self-employed, because they’re just days when there is no mail and nobody calls to interrupt you while you’re working.

Major holidays, where you end up going to the kids’ house for dinner and totally interrupting your routine, are hard because the deadlines don’t change, only the time available. Plus I spent most of yesterday thinking it was Monday, which completely upset my schedule.

But I remember, as in Buckets, the days when I worked in an office, and this week was utterly pointless, because anybody I needed to talk to was not only not at work but off in Aspen or Barbados.

Including, fortunately, the Boss.

Which made it like some odd vacation where you were confined to the office.

 

And finally

Reply All points out that New Year’s Resolutions are crazy.

Well, half crazy. Like this mutated version of full crazy: