It started out innocently enough:

I began to think at parties, now and then, just to loosen up.

 Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.

 I began to think alone – “to relax,” I told myself – but I knew it wasn’t true.

 Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.

 That was when things began to sour at home.  One evening I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life – and that night she went and spent the night at her mother’s.

 I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don’t mix, but I couldn’t help myself.  I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau, Muir, Confucius and Kafka.  I would return to the office all turned around, asking, “What is it exactly that we are doing here?”

 One day the boss called me in.  He said, “Listen, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but you’re thinking has become a real problem.  If you don’t stop thinking on the job you’ll have to find another job.”

 This gave me a lot to think about.  I came home early after my conversation with the boss.”Honey,”  I confessed, “I’ve been thinking…” “I know you’ve been thinking,” she said, “and I want a divorce!” “But hon, surely it’s not that serious.”

 “It is serious,” she said, lower lip a quiver. “You think as much as a damn philosopher and philosophers don’t make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won’t have any money!”  “I think 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 going to the library,” I snarled as I stomped out 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 glass door, a Thinkers Anonymous poster caught my eye.  “Is heavy thinking ruining your life?” it asked.

 This is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.  I never miss a TA meeting.  At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was “Porky’s.”  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 took a final step.

 I joined the Democrat Party.