The following is intended to be funny and is certainly not intended to disrespect, belittle, or make fun of any individual or group. Itâ€™s called: â€œDo you have a thinking problem?
â€œIt started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then â€” just to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone â€” "to relax," I told myself â€” but I knew it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.
â€œThat was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's. I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself.
â€œI began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, â€˜What is it exactly we are doing here?â€™ One day the boss called me in. He said, â€˜Listen, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job.â€™"
â€œThis gave me a lot to think about. I came home early after my conversation with the boss. â€˜Honey,â€™ I confess, â€˜I've been thinkingâ€¦â€™ â€˜I know you've been thinking,â€™ she said, â€˜and I want a divorce!â€™ â€˜ But Honey, surely it's not that serious.â€™"
"â€™It is serious,â€™ she said, and her lower lip began to quiver. â€˜You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!â€™"
"â€™That's a faulty syllogism,â€™ I said impatiently. She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama. â€˜I'm going to the library,â€™ I snarled as I stomped out the door. I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors. They didn't open. The library was closed.
â€œTo this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye, â€˜Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?â€™ it asked.
â€œYou probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinkers Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was â€˜Porky's,â€™ the week before, it was â€˜Animal House.â€™â€