Holy crap, it’s Friday already again.
You better be cheering up, darn it.
Henceforth, I’m going to stop apologizing for being happy. There’s nothing wrong with it. Of course I have my bad, grumpy, rotten-feeling days. Everyone has those. Fewer of us still have valid days, weeks, months, and even years where we feel nothing, which can be even worse than feeling sadness. It’s fine to get sad; it’s okay to be depressed. Sadness and grieving are normal and I don’t feel that we do enough public expression of this as a society. I’ll definitely post about that another time, believe me, but right now, I’m fine. Things aren’t perfect (HOT TAKE: THEY NEVER WILL BE!!!) but they’re going.
The repairs on the apartment are almost finished, so we’re closer to getting maintenance out of our hair for good. I’m as healthy as can be at the moment for one with an autoimmune disease. John and the dogs never seem to get enough sleep, but are otherwise satisfied. I was in a fender-bender last weekend and my car is totaled. I’m very fortunate: No injuries to anyone involved, and the other vehicle was not damaged in the slightest. The auto shop somehow had someone there Labor Day weekend, and the tow truck was able to pick up my Accord and get it there same-day, with no weekend rate increase. I am taking the bus while we search for another car. To many, this would be the end of the world, and it’s definitely not fun getting up an hour earlier than I’d like, but
it. could. all be. worse.
The bus stop doesn’t have to be right at the end of my street, less than a block’s walk away from the apartment. It could be dark while I wait, but my schedule just changed at the beginning of September, and now I have sunlight at all times. There are no transfers on my route; it’s direct both ways. I’m not even on the bus for an hour, on a bad day. I don’t have to have a job that understands that life happens and so do subsequent transportation issues, but I’m so grateful that do.
Pandora’s Box has always been one of my favorite myths. Because she’s insatiably curious, little ol’ Pandy gets in over her head and basically screws over the world after Zeus tells her not to open the box he gave her. Of course, she totally does. Way to go, girl. But, wait! It’s all good, because there’s this teeny, tiny little thing at the bottom of this box that saves the day.
It’s hope! And we all have this inside ourselves all the time. It’s always there, even when things are at their crappiest, even when you forget.
I did not have a lot of hope at the forefront, sitting in the middle of the intersection this past Saturday. I’m not always going to. Hopeless days are going to be there. But the weight that negativity puts on me gets to be so heavy. I’ve found that it’s easier for me to give in to the lightness.
I like to take my showers right before I go to bed. Literal as well as figurative gunk is rinsed down the drain and my soul slips cleanly off to sleep, gleaming, bright, and hopeful, looking forward to the dawn.