OK, I am currently writing from the confines of my cube in between inputting numbers into stupid little grids on an Excel spreadsheet. After doing something funky to my back last night, I asked a co-worker for some aspirin. Seeing as how she recently tore a few tendons in her arm, and is currently in a cast, she has some of the… shall we say, more "top shelf" pain relievers.

Yeah, I know… I spoke out on the evils of self-medicating last year, but taking two Tylenol with Codeine once for a sore back is hardly abuse. All I was asking for was some Alleve. But I got Tequila instead of a Bud Light, if you would like an analogous comparison. In any event, seeing as how this stuff is kicking in over here, this oughta make for an interesting post. By the power of painkillers, here we go…

I'm not a fan of numbers. Percentages, fractions, formulas, the works. Don't like 'em. Never had. I don't know that it's because I don't have a "head for math."

Wait. Scratch that. I have something of a head for math… I just hate using it. I don't like numbers, or crunching them. It's not that the task is hard… I'm sure that with enough time and effort, I could pull it off. Both my parents are mathematically keen, so I'm sure that genetically it runs strong in the bloodline. It's not just them, either - seems like plenty of folks on both sides of the family fair well with math (finance and accounting majors tend to run abound).

Be that as it may, I just can't stand the concept of crunching numbers to come up with results. It's one of the reasons that while my job pays the bills, I'm not thrilled with it. I make no bones about that. But y'see, the reason I'm not thrilled with it has nothing to do with the workload or the people. It's a number-crunching job in the guise of a multi-tasking position. These formulas, these inventory reports, they drive me absofrickinglutely mental. This wasn't what I had in mind when I signed on for the job, and yet I stick with it because I know that there is potential here for really good things.

Be that as it may, I take umbrage to any one individual who says that numbers determine the pattern of things in this world. OK, to an extent you're right. Numbers are the backbone of basic mathematics and science, both of which have helped us to establish the history of humankind, and the history of the earth (and possibly the future, itself).

Be that as it may, dear bean-counters, there are a great deal of much more important x-factors that numbers simply cannot account for. In fact, I would be willing to bet that there's at least a 50 percent over-under on the certainty of such figures. I suppose making such a statement may ruffle the feathers of some of the online community, but screw 'em. I know in my mind that I'm right on this. There's always that margin of error, because in this world, and for that matter, this universe, nothing is constant, nothing is perfect. Ever.

There's a lot that numbers cannot do. Numbers cannot entertain or engage the mind. I find it very hard to believe that they can inspire creation, or motivate an individual to work harder. I truly believe that those who sink into numerically sound industries such as accounting or finance do so because either A) they have a knack for it, B) they love money, or C) both. I have never met anyone who has beamed about being an accounting major. And of the finance majors I have met, they talk more about their income (or potential income) than their actual craft.

Meanwhile, if you were to speak to a theater or dance major, I'll bet you dollars to dicks that they absolutely gush about what they do, knowing full well that they will probably never make a fraction of the salary of a top tier financial analyst.

It's like me with writing. I do it because I love it. It goes way beyond a past time or hobby. It has fully cascaded into a passion, pure and simple. And I just cannot fathom how anyone could be passionate about mathematics. Think about it. Do you remember any of your math teachers ever being terribly excited about their craft? I sure as shit don't.

Now let me make one thing clear, here… my quarrel is with mathematical institutions as a lifestyle and cornerstone of busines. I have nothing against science. While science relies mainly on fact, it is still 50 percent analytical, 50 percent theoretical. The latter half requires a certain type of mind to think outside the box and really grasp concepts. That goes way beyond carbon-dating and the like, and I'm sure not everyone can get into that.

I look at it this way: raw numbers, in my mind, equate to facts. Facts are boring. Anyone can look them up in an encyclopedia or online. Retaining facts is simple. You pound your head against something long enough and it'll sink in and make sense. But concepts are something that raw numbers cannot conceive.

And still, 18 hours later after my codeine-induced writing fit, I stand by everything I wrote here. I just cannot get behind the use of mathematics as a way of life. I understand it, but I don’t agree with it. To me, it’s only a part of the puzzle, and is all too often overly relied upon. You don’t know how many times those Excel formulas don’t work, or how many times the projections come up dead wrong. Like anything else, it’s imprecise, plain and simple.

Maybe I should recant and take pain-killers more often. At least it got me motivated enough to write. But then I’d just be putting the “hip” in “hypocrite,” and I don’t wanna snake the Republican Party’s next great slogan.

That’s right. I zinged the Party. Deal with it.

But to summarize, true believers... you go ahead and plug those digits into your Texas Instruments calculator. You go ahead and have faith in your precious numbers. Meanwhile I'm going to read a book and postulate on my own personal theories of existence... sans formulas.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.