Muse. Ramble. Rant. Repeat



A Pep Talk to Myself.

I’m in a funk.

For a variety of reasons but the main ones being my laptop blew up on Friday (and about 40 hours of client files that need to be recreated this week on top of my normal 50 hour workload); we need new tires; and we still haven’t moved into the new place.

Winter is creeping into the city and I find myself depressed at the constant grey skies. I wake up every morning with good intentions and find myself at the end of the day sitting on the sofa, head in CJ’s lap in near tears over life. I know this is irrational – my problems aren’t really problems. Oh, woo is me, the beautiful flat we are moving into needs another week of custom woodworking on it. Poor me, my laptop blew up and this is stressful because I am self employed and need to work extra hard for one week. At least I’m still employed and have job security, in comparison to so many others.  And winter! What a horrible thing, this living in a place with seasons. I would complain far more if I didn’t get to see the leaves change,  witness the first snow fall, smell the air of spring, feel the breeze on a summer day.  I have no reason to complain about my life – it’s so good in so many ways and yet here I am, sighing heavily at the thought of dealing with another hour of it.

My phone rings, I pick it up and screen the call. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I consistently bailed on my plans this past weekend. I blatantly ignored text messages. It’s taking all my willpower not to cancel every plan I made for this coming week. I don’t want to be around people celebrating, drinking, laughing, living life. I want to curl up into a ball and cry about the world. But I have commitments. Meetings, deadlines, people to please. I hate them all. I sat in a meeting this morning and I’m pretty sure I didn’t take away one ounce of information. I want to escape all my current problems and forget that they exist. Basically I want to run away and stop being me.  

It’s a funny thing, us humans and our obsession with being happy. It is socially unacceptable to feel sorry for yourself. You are expected to always put on a happy face and pretend that everything is ok (You want to debate that? Go ahead, I have antidepressant sales to back me up). To sit and be in a mood, a funk, depressed state is just not ok. We, myself included, are always telling each other it’s going to be ok. That we will get through whatever we are facing. That at some point in the future the sun will come out and shine down on us. Many of us need religion* to tell us this exact message. That unexpected bumps mean something.

*I’m agnostic. So, not so much with the organized religion but I believe in universal karma and will tell anyone who asks that everything evens out in life.

It’s bullshit. Sometimes the flat tire just means the flat tire. Sometimes the feeling bad about life is justified because life has thrown you some bad things. Sometimes, no matter what you do or how much good you’ve tried to give things just break down and life sucks.

There are two things when you realize you are in this position. You can accept defeat and cry about it or you can do something about it. That bullshit that is spewed – lemons and lemonade and whatnot– actually works.

Perhaps tomorrow – or maybe the next day – even the day after that – I will wake up and the weight on my mind will have shifted. I don’t stay in self pity mode for very long. I take time to process, hate it, cry about it and then I start doing something about it. I know that I can get through this if I try hard enough. That no matter the problem I will fix it. I will return my phone calls and make a delicious dinner for those I snubbed. I will be extra nice to the clients I currently hate and go out of my way for them.  I’ve clawed back 5 hours of the 40 I lost. I’ve been price comparing winter tires. I’m badgering our landlords to let us in to the new place. I’ve googled voodoo weather dances to ward off the snow.

Ok, I lied about that last one. I know there is no way to stop the snow from coming but if I thought it would help I would totally dance naked for it.

It will get better. I know this. I just need to make it better.

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