4 posts tagged “those days”

You should see what I'm wearing today.

I didn't intend to be the 67 inch Rainbow walking down Clinton Avenue this morning on may way to United Way.  But I realized well after I'd left the comforts of my little Rogers Park hovel that I was destined to be known as such for the rest of the day.  Here's how it happened:

I think I've pretty impressively and longitudinally documented my morning murkiness.  This is a chronic condition, always requiring some kind of caffeine to lift the fog.  This morning was one of those special days on which I absolutely knew I had to get downtown earlier than I have been.  So when 7:30 jangled, I shot out of bed and into the shower.  This action does not (DOES NOT!) mean that I am mentally awake.  It just means that for a short 30-40 minutes my body gets to run the show while my brain is still snoozing.  I put myself together and got out the door in time to catch the train I needed and as I sat down I felt pretty darn good about myself.  I even blew dry my hair this morning and remembered to brush my teeth (a rare coincidental pair). As I strode out of the train station and onto the sunny street I lightly remembered yesterday's melancholy and thought, "Huh...I knew today would be better."  And then I caught sight of myself in a massive pane glass window sported by one of the buildings on Clinton and now I knew exactly who I was going to actually be today: Johnny Depp in Willie Wonka. 

Allow me to paint you the picture.  Standing before me in the glass was a girl with longish blonde hair, black sunglasses, a red jacket with a brown lining covering up a partially buttoned egg-yolk yellow cardigan and an orange silk scarf.  Under the yellow sweater I have on a azure blue tank.  At this point, I thought I was wearing black pants which would have "grounded" the top portion of my outfit, but no.  My pants are a reddish brown color which somehow enhances the colors up top.  Oh, and I'm wearing khaki shoes.  I look like a bowl of Trix.

It was only yesterday that my friend Kristine told me that I'm one of two of her friends who has the potential to wear green pants to work.  I objected, challenging her to name the last time I worse anything that even resembled green pants.  I don't even own green pants.  Clearly, today, I see that's a good thing.

Because if I did, I'd surely be wearing them.

Man, today is going to be one of those days.  You know the kind.  I woke up and knew I didn't want to get out of bed. And I'm fairly sure nothing is going to make it right today.  I'm just not going to let it.  And that's okay, I think.  If in all things there is balance, I'm due for a couple melancholy days after the past six days that were just filled to the brim with joy and fulfillment.  Melancholy isn't ever bad for me and I never really see it as the effect of suffering or want.  It's just a sadness or, even better, a grayness.  Everything looks gray.  I feel gray.  The world smells gray today.  And that's cool.

But, the thing about melancholy lately is that I've been pairing it with "letting go."  I used to have sad days and assume the sadness was coming from something; that it was caused by an event or conditions that created it.  Letting go allows me to disassociate sadness with events; it becomes just an ambient feeling.  And I rejoice in it, actually.  In a world that wants nothing but pre-packaged, shiny happiness all the time, moodiness presents itself as a familiar, comfortable friend.  I don't have to try nearly so hard. And it's not a bad friend.  There's coziness in it somehow.  And I don't have to worry about fixing it.  I can just be with Sadness and welcome it like any conversation I have with a friend.  Sadness and I drink tea together and lay under the red down blanket and talk about how things could be different but not wish them to be that.

And one of the greatest effects of Sadness is that it always brings with it the realization of Love, I think because the two are often juxtaposed.  Love is an easy sell when things are happy; we allow the two to go hand in hand.  But the Love expressed when Sadness is at the table is much more recognizable.  It works harder and stands out on its own merits.  It's uncovered as the hidden "good" in Sadness which we always try to run from.

Today I'm hanging with Sadness but I don't mind it.  Having said that I look forward to Happy's (more specifically Guffawing Laughing's) return.

It's been one of those days.  All day long I've been anxious.  I know exactly why and I've acknowledged that it's a completely crazy reason that has absolutely no merit.  Regardless, I've been waiting for an e-mail response that I'm just not going to get.  Of course, I've been waiting for the response since 10am...and I just sent the e-mail about 2 hours ago.  Like I said, one of those days.

What I've found somewhat entertaining about the whole thing is that I've tracked the growing anger I've manifested at my e-mail inbox specifically for not having anything in it.  The lack of activity has caused me to check it roughly every 2-5 minutes all day long.  And when I'm reminded of the inactivity, I get increasingly upset.  Still.  To this minute, I'm staring at it trying to will this e-mail response.  You know, the one I won't get. And I feel it's the inbox's fault.  I'm not throwing out the conspiracy theory I have whereby the e-mail inbox actually has the response I want but won't tell me until it's ready.  I hate this inbox.

I'm shutting off this computer right now.  I'm pulling the plug.  I'm slowly killing myself with the waiting.  But I have to check my e-mail first...

This is not a weather-related blog today.  No.  It's more a life condition.  Why is this always true? Why? Why?

Okay, so my week (I originally typed "weak" which I think is an absurdly appropriate Freudian slip) has been steadily heading downhill.  That's okay.  We all have those weeks.  But the most difficult thing for me to deal with is the day that one straw actually will break the camel's back.  That straw hit between my shoulder blades about, oh, three hours ago at which time I head a giant cracking sound, not unlike the sound that Marty McFly's Dolorian time machine makes when leaving or entering reality. If time could rip, this cracking would be the sound it makes.  That's melodramatic. But also not untrue.

Anyway, I can only be annoyed with myself which, in fact, makes this straw so much more annoying.  I've let situations that are problematic for me ride too long under the label "I'm totally fine with this."  I'm learning that I should stop lying to myself; saying the words never makes the situations totally fine...which is what I always hope will happen. What happens is a facade of "Eh, Pacyna's laid back about it....she'll be fine with it."  That's actually usually true. What sucks is that on the occasion that I'm not, I'm under-rehearsed in being a "bother," in holding my ground, in voicing my discomfort or generally pissed-off-edness.  I hate being reminded that it's a life skill I really lack.

So, to you (possibly two) fine reader(s) a caveat: Don't ask me for anything today.  Probably not tomorrow either.  I'm tapped out. I have no patience or understanding left at this moment.  I will pick a fight with you.  I will likely yell.  And all of this in print, no less. And it's probably not your fault.

I'm as mad as hell. And I'm not gonna take it anymore. (Thank you Peter Finch.)

And thank you for listening.