‘On any other day, I might just go crazy’
You’d think that, after working a good 26 or so hours in the past two days alone, I’d be crabby. But quite the contrary — life’s been fairly amusing lately, to the point that I’m just grateful that the hours were worked over two days and not solely in one!
I think my brain went on vacation and left the rest of me here since sometime late last week. I don’t even know how to describe it. Maybe it’s like a dream or something. I don’t know. I hate being at home, but both work and social commitments have kept me far away from it, so I’m always thrilled about that. 🙂
I guess I’m just trying to cultivate the mental equivalent of Club Med in my head. I’m collecting all those moments in which I was happy, and I’m splicing them together into a “greatest hits” DVD that I’m playing on a loop to get me through.
“Alarm clock rings, it’s 6:45,
Must have hit that snooze button least three times,
I’m wishing this morning,
Was still last night,
On any other day,
I just might want to die.”— Bon Jovi, “On Any Other Day”
It’s funny how your memories/fantasies change throughout the years. I remember having such good moments that I didn’t want to think about them too much, lest they lose their “fail-safe happy place” sheen. And guess what — I’ve forgotten them all. Occasionally I’ll have a dream or a flashback and have to remind myself that it was a real moment long since buried. And it’s comforting to know that I had some happiness somewhere along the line.
Then I have the moments that I’ve played to death. And even most of them, I don’t remember all that well — at least, not the details, the ones I probably obsessed over at some point.
I guess, despite everything, I’ve been feeling more like myself lately. Working a lot, sure, but being a social butterfly again. I’d retracted my wings for a long while because of money, and I find myself being forced to do it again. (Mom asked if “we” could afford to put $50 in somebody’s birthday card. Guess who “we” is in this equation. Barf. Do “we” really need that expensive cell phone plan, then?)
Anyway, I’ve just been hanging out socially with people who are good to me, who compliment me and laugh at my jokes and tell me they enjoy me and hug me with all the sincerity in the world. Like, my being on this planet makes a difference to them. They demand nothing of me and appreciate any energy I can afford them.
“On any other day I’d be
blue*green* eyes crying,
I could tell the world that at least I’m trying,
The clouds are breaking the sun is shining new …
Maybe luck and love, will pull us through.”
I realize how little it takes for me to light up and sparkle — a conversation with handsome young men, a safe environment, a happy memory tucked safely in my mind to bring a smile to my face randomly. Everyone says it, and it’s true — happiness attracts happiness.
When I’m out in the world, positive vibes come my way when I’m feeling good. When a friend “gets” me or puts me on a pedestal for a moment, I carry that with me. You have no idea how I cherish it. And you might never know what transpired in the moments that “made” me, but you’ll see it for days to come. People see that and want to be around that. It rubs off on those who are receptive to it.
Anyway, so much more than meets the eye is going on here at Chez Caterwauling, per usual. So many secrets, so much effort behind appearing to be clueless and pretense behind being guileless.
I don’t mean to be crabby and upset and standoffish when I am. It’s just my way of demanding my space, and there are the (rare) people who respect that. Then there are those who could give a flying fuck and push their way into my face anyway. And, best of all, there are those who respect it but edge in carefully to distract me and make me enjoy a moment, sometimes even despite myself.
I just hope the high can last a little while longer, and maybe it will attract even more good. Or, at least, maybe it will keep the bad from hurting so much.