i'm having a bad day. an alexander & the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day kinda day. a mean soup kind of day. a day where there is a snarled ball of ick ricocheting around my chest and the only thing i can do is growl and hiss and stomp. i'm not proud of it but there you go. just call me oscar.
but then i see people i lurve and i feel giggle-faced and chirpy. we eat sweets and chat and unload and chat some more. where small warm people snuggle up to me and smile and stare and glom all that wee love. wee love is a surefire solution to ick and snit and snurfle-y scowls. it sings about my head and flutters around my heart and for a moment the day just ain't so bad.
and of course it ends when i get back into the car to drive home. braking and dashing and swerving from the clueless frazzled drivers that make up a good portion of los angelinos on the road and the snit comes roaring back. i yell at myself to let it go. i attempt to charm myself into good cosmic thinking and then someone swerves into my lane chasing it all away again. so i hum and lalalalala to myself and attempt to self soothe and urge my thinking to good and happy thoughts until i see a parade of tiny, skinny women jogging along with their tots leading the line. great. along with the snit my filters are throwing mockery into the pot. once mockery is in, the stew brews up a giant bowl of self-pity and i'm a goner for the day. might as well accept it. the problem with that though is that my filters go all kablooey and instead of filtering the bad stuff out they work overtime to cram it all in, in UPPERCASE even. doom doom doom. blah blah blah.
i arrive home, to a package on the doorstep and inside i find a trio of soothing sounding teas and a letter from my aunt. a little bit of something to cross the snit of my face. tea may not keep me from wanting to move to australia, but it sure does soothe when you take the time to brew a pot. if that doesn't help, maybe serving it up in a giraffe-happy mug will.
sigh. there's always tomorrow. right?