Confessions of an addicted thinker

I never wanted to be a thinker. I was happy just to stare out of the classroom window watching the girls play netball in their navy blue knickers.

A piece of chalk carefully aimed by Rushworth our technical drawing teacher hit me on the side of the head and I was threatened with half an hours detention if I didn’t pay attention and to start thinking about what was going on.

I started immediately to think how the hell did he see me when he had his back to us. Thought concluded that the sly old devil could see through his glasses against the blackboard.

Then it began to become serious. Innocently, I began to think at parties now and then -- just to loosen up.

One thought led to another and soon I became more than just a social thinker.

I began to think alone, just to take the edge off the day I told myself. I began deluding myself that I could control it. But it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was a full on, full time thinker, thinking all the time.

Things began to sour at home. One evening I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's and was reticent to return.

I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, I couldn't help myself.

I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to work fuddled and confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"

One day the manager called me in. "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." she said

This gave me a lot to think about. I came home early after my conversation with my manager. Arriving home I had to tell my wife Honey, I confess, I've been thinking, I can’t stop

I know you've been thinking, you’re always doing it, she said, I want a divorce!

Is it so serious I asked?

It is serious," she said, and her lower lip began to aquiver. You think as much as college professors and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we’ll be broke

That's a faulty syllogism, I said impatiently. She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama. I'm off to the library. I screamed slamming 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.

To 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, "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked.

You probably recognise the 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 non-educational videos. Last week it was Jerry Springer, the week before, it was Rosie O Donnel.

Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting. I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.

I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me. Today I registered to vote for The Liberal Party.

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