By Casey Liss
Thought Parasites

Nearly every single day, when I arrive at work, this is what I see:


I thought it was an accident the first couple times I saw it, but no, it’s not.

Every. Single. Day. That’s how this individual parks. Across two spots.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Sometimes he’s backed in across two spots, which, unfortunately, does not make me any less angry.

Every single day, this is how my day starts. I get out of my car, grab my computer and my water bottle, start to walk toward the building, and get annoyed.

I have only seen the driver a couple times, and each time I’ve thought about saying something:

Is there a reason you park across two spots?

Why do you park like such a jerk?

If you’re going to park like a jerk, at least have the common courtesy to do so in the farthest corner of the parking lot.

Would you like me to guide you into the spot tomorrow morning? Doesn’t seem like you’re able to get there without some help.

Since I’m a total wimp, and non-confrontational, I’ve never said anything to him. I just hope the stink eye I’m giving him is doing all the talking.

This morning, as I was reflecting on the most passive-aggressive way to shame this driver into compliance with my rules of parking etiquette, something struck me.

This is no way for me to start my day. Not once. Certainly not every day.

As I’ve gotten older, and busier, I’ve come to realize the same thing everyone at around my age seems to realize: time is our most valuable resource. We should only spend our time on things that truly matter.

This man’s insistence on parking like a tool? Doesn’t matter. The only thing I’m doing by noticing it is wasting my own time. By thinking about it, I’m putting myself in a bad mood before I walk into work each day. For what?

It’s just not worth it.

The traffic I hit on the way home from WWDC? Not worth being angry about. What’s more? In this case, the traffic was caused by a pretty rough accident. One that necessitated at least one ambulance. Someone didn’t come home to their loved ones that night, possibly by no fault of their own.

Don’t I feel like an idiot for firing off that angry tweet now? (Yes, I really do.)

It’s not the turn of a year, so I can’t call this a New Year’s Resolution. It’s better that I don’t — those never work anyway. What I can say is, I’m working on being far more deliberate about not letting thought parasites into my world.

Because when I rid myself of these time sucks, I’ll be ready for what’s really important.