What…Me Neurotic?
Now, we’ve established that I’m afraid of weird-ass things.
Jimmy Wales, founder of Wikipedia, for one. I’m afraid he’s – or one of his guilt-inducing minions – is going to knife me in my sleep because I didn’t donate ten bucks to him last year. Plus, I’m afraid that he’d judging me for all the shit I Google.
I’m afraid of showering while no one is home because, HELLO, have you SEEN a horror movie? That’s how they all begin.
I’m afraid of sitting with my back toward any open door because I’m pretty sure I was a mobster in a past life, and hello, have you seen how they always get the shit blown out of them when they’re sitting with their back away from the door?
I’m also afraid of this guy:
Because do you want that guy giving you a thorough rectal exam?
I THINK NOT.
Oddly, it turns out that I am absolutely terrified of commitment. Especially commitment to the government.
See, I’m taking Band Back Together and (spoiler alert!) turning it into a non-profit. And because I am terrified of screwing that up and then owing the IRS sixty-bajillion dollars plus my kidneys (not because I expect to MAKE a single dollar, mind you), I figured I’d call my lawyer.
Yeah, I have a lawyer. It’s not NEARLY as glamorous as it sounds.
So, we get on the phone and I’m all nervously trying to explain what the site is and stuff, and he’s like, “I’m sorry, Becky, but I don’t know much about non-profits. You can PROBABLY do it yourself.”
Which is precisely what the people who help me behind the scenes at Band Back Together said. But I didn’t believe them because do you KNOW how I fuck things up?
Anyway, I went and found the place where I’m supposed to start registering but I got all nervous and started shaking like a Chihuahua. Then I had to close the browser and perform some “deep cleansing breaths” (read: make a margarita).
Do these people not know how STUPID I am? I’ve documented that well, I think. And yet, the Illinois Secretary of State has not BLOCKED me from their website?
That is such an error on their end.
Pranksters, I don’t think I can do it by myself. I can barely go to the grocery store without forgetting why I’m there.
Now I’m waiting for someone to come over and hold my hand and tell me what to fill in for each box and when to click, “submit” and then I will hand them tens of dollars.
Otherwise, I’m going to end up without a set of kidneys and as that Nurse McPervy up there would like to point out, one cannot function without kidneys. Also: he’d like to give you a thorough rectal exam.
You know, when you’re ready.