It started out innocently enough: I began to think at parties now and then 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.

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

Things weren’t going so great at home either. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my husband about the meaning of life. He spent that night at his mother’s.

I soon had a reputation as a heavy thinker. One day the boss called me in.

He said, “Liz, 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.”

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,” he said, “and I want a divorce.”

“But Honey, surely it’s not that serious.”

“It is serious,” he said, lower lip aquiver. “You think as much as a college professor, and college professors don’t make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won’t have any money!”

“That’s a faulty syllogism,” I said impatiently, and he began to cry.

I’d had enough.

“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. With NPR on the radio, I roared into the parking lot 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. As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye: “Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?” it asked.

You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker’s 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 a non-educational video; last week it was “Porky’s.” Then we share experiences about how we’ve 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.

Soon, I will be able to vote Republican.

J. Morgan Assistant Professor of English Glenville State College