Addendum — The Price of Stupidity
Addendum — The Price of Stupidity
Some people carry their noise like a badge, talking about problems that don’t need solving or lecturing about mistakes that aren’t theirs to own. Last night, it was an Uber driver — well-meaning, maybe, but lost in a monologue about reckless drivers, life lessons, and how I should “care more.”
I told him the truth:
“That’s the price you pay for stupidity.”
Not out of cruelty, but because some lessons don’t need an audience. If someone wants to burn out on their own choices, that’s their path — not mine to stress over.
The same rule applies to work. I see half-drunk bottles stashed behind cereal boxes, mini energy drinks dumped wherever, and sushi abandoned like someone forgot they were human. It’s laziness wearing a mask. I hope it all circles back to them — because bad habits, like bad choices, always do.
And then there’s SodaGate. My name is on my sodas. It’s not complicated. If someone thinks that’s an invitation, I won’t say a word — I’ll walk straight to management.
At the end of the day, I don’t have space for other people’s chaos. I’ve got my own weight to carry, my own work to finish, and my own peace to protect.
I’m not perfect — I fail daily — but I’d rather laugh at my mess than drown in theirs.
“Peace isn’t given — it’s carved out of the noise, one clean cut at a time.”