I thought I was the only one feeling low this week. Since Sunday, I have been struggling to keep my eyes open, my mouth shut, and my temper in check. It hasn’t been easy. Believe it or not, Monday’s post took me several hours to write. I kept going back to it again and again Sunday evening until I finally gave up. On Monday, it wasn’t any better. It’s not that I was starved for inspiration; I had that in spades. The challenge was in trying to write something positive, or at the very least not so damn privileged suburban whiny.
I finally edited down 700 words to the one message that didn’t make me sound like a spoiled snit: weeds don’t look half bad with the right set of eyes. I went to bed early and slept eight hours. I woke up confident my mood would improve.
The first part of the morning was good, and by good I mean better than 75% of the world’s population, the ones with legitimate problems, like finding food and shelter. I noticed while I was making the bed that the light streaming through the frosted window was beautiful. I ran and got my camera, all the while making LifeTime Channel analogies between my mood and new days, bright sides, and foggy windows pierced with light. I know. It was all so dramatic I almost put myself in time-out. By 11:00am I was back to feeling tired and foggy, like the window (again with the analogies!) only not nearly as photogenic.
My aim is to keep this place honest, but mainly positive. To that end, I usually wait to write about things that upset me until I can write about them with humor. At my core, I am a funny, positive, incredibly goofy individual. But occasionally I get grumpy, and when I am grumpy I am more caustic than funny. Chemical burns are rarely funny, so yesterday I kept silent.
The silence here allowed me to poke around online, and seems like there is a collective panties in wad feeling both online and off. It didn’t make me feel better, really, but I did enjoy the company.
Until I didn’t. If I had any hope of getting out of my mood, I had to drown out the negative voices and look inside at what had me so anxious. There was plenty, and it was all of my own doing. I feel a new endeavor coming up. I think I will call it the Anti-Endeavor, or the month of less. Less scheduling, less projects, less late nights, less running around, less worrying (over nothing), and less whining. It’s an endeavor where I hope to find more gratitude. Wish me luck.