Things I Pretend to Understand
Me pretending I understand anything…
Look, my father tried—unsuccessfully—to teach me calculus in high school.
To this day, I do not understand why
E = MC².
Honestly, I don’t even know if that’s a reference to calculus.
Or physics.
Or just something we all agreed to respect.
The only thing I picked up from Einstein was relativity.
And even that is… relatively confusing.
I would understand math if it didn’t involve numbers,
I’m great with concepts.
Numbers feel personal.
I used to give every number a personality when I was 5.
Like 2 was the good guy, and 5 was the dude you couldn’t trust.
Did I know what 2 plus 5 was? No.
It felt less important than the soap opera in my head—
where 7 was a backstabbing bitch.
There are a lot of things I understand.
And then there are the things I absolutely do not understand…
but have decided, for everyone’s sake, to pretend that I do.
Let’s talk about taxes for a moment. I nod when people talk about them like I, too, have a healthy relationship with numbers.
(Let’s just say I almost failed Statistics in college.
Even though I have been known to casually say things like “studies show,”
with absolutely no study to back it up
Or numerical evidence.)
When it comes to taxes, I say things like,
“Yeah, it definitely depends on the bracket.”
and then pray no one asks me which one.
I believe we should be taxing the rich.
Confidently.
Loudly.
But if you asked me to define “the rich”…
I would need a moment.
And possibly a graph.
(Who am I kidding, as if a graph would help.)
I believe in socialism.
In spirit.
In practice… I would like to review the terms and conditions.
Which is great—
unless it involves more taxes for me.
Then I have some questions.
Taxes make about as much sense to me as the electoral college does.
I understand both have been around for a long time,
At this point, I don’t understand them—
I just trust that someone else does.
On that same note, credit scores baffle me.
In my thirties, I destroyed mine with impressive consistency.
Since then, I’ve brought it back to a level where I can almost be trusted again.
The confusion is what happens next.
Why does my credit score go up or down depending on what feels like the position of the stars?
Honestly, astrology makes more sense.
If you check my credit, it goes down.
If I go into debt, it goes up.
If I responsibly pay that debt off, it goes… down again.
At this point, it feels less like a system
and more like a mood.
One I am somehow responsible for.
Which feels unfair.
My entire financial personality is based on something
more erratic than my perimenopause.
Football
Football seems cool.
I do not understand a single thing about it.
Not one.
American football.
I understand actual football.
Like when they start running into each other
and sort of hug/fight…
and then someone throws a strangely shaped ball—
I’m still trying to understand the emotional tone.
Is this aggressive?
Is this supportive?
Are we winning… or bonding?
Is this a sport… or an interpretive dance?
Someone will say,
“That was a terrible call,”
and I’ll agree.
Because it did feel terrible.
Emotionally.
Apparently, everything in my life becomes a telenovela.
At some point, they “touch” something—
and that’s… excellent.
The commentators speak with the kind of certainty
I wish I had about literally anything in my life.
People are locked in. Focused. Intense.
Meanwhile, I am in a passionate relationship
with the chips and dip.
I suspect my ambivalence toward football
and my commitment to food
makes me less American…
and more here for the snacks.
Karma
Karma is something I deeply believe in.
In theory.
I like the idea that the universe is keeping track.
That somewhere, there’s a quiet ledger of good and bad,
and everything eventually balances out.
It’s comforting.
But also… deeply concerning.
Because if that’s true,
then every shopping cart I didn’t return,
every lie on my resume,
every nasty word I’ve said when fighting with my mother…
is being recorded.
Somewhere.
By someone.
Or something.
And I don’t understand the timeline.
Is karma immediate?
Or does it wait… patiently…
for the exact moment things start going well?
And if there really is karma,
Am I just doing good things to get good things?
Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of the act itself?
I was a caretaker for my ill father for five years,
Does that equal five years of smooth sailing?
In this life? In the next?
I mean is spiritual math anything like worldly math?
I feel like the universe has a better calculator.
Karma then goes into reincarnation which is another
concept I do not understand, even a little bit.
Just to give you a flavor of how confused I am…
Do dictators and serial killers come back as roaches and mice?
Who or what was I in my past life, and what waits for me in the future?
This feels like a system I was never properly briefed on.
Even the internet or AI doesn’t seem confident about this.
We don’t know what happens after death.
Whether the credit score of our souls
is good enough to get us somewhere better—
or if this is it.
This life.
Where nothing makes complete sense,
but we all walk around
trying to count our blessings—
using mental math,
Hoping we get the balance right.
Hoping we don’t end up owing.
I hope karma isn’t keeping receipts.
“I am not young enough to know everything.”
—Oscar Wilde
nina
A couple of friends and I started a podcast called 2 Curries and a Ranch. Listen here: https://2curriesandaranch.riverside.com/ or wherever you get your podcasts.
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