Fact: I’m not exactly an optimist.
Fact: I’m not really a pessimist.
.. ..
I bitch quite a bit about a small number of things. And I
realize that sometimes it gets stupid. Sometimes I go off about things just for
the sake of letting off some steam. However, in some of my limited down time
this week I’ve started thinking about things I hate, things I like to complain
about, and things that are pretty good all around me. I started to come around
to being a little more grateful for the good stuff and re-evaluate just how bad
the other stuff was.
It’s a good thing that process started early this past weekend,
because I’m fairly empathetic and tend to feed off of the moods of those around
me. For the last few days I’ve been surrounded by this strange brand of
negativity. An unwillingness to give people the benefit of the doubt. A
persistence to complain, repeatedly, about the behavior of others. Constant
negativity about the dynamic of an environment and about things that one is
powerless to change. It’s also been difficult to stay chill when others
over-react to every minor inconvenience or day to day happening in this thing
that is life.
I think what’s most difficult is that, for the first time in
months, I’m at a place where I want to take a positive look at things. I’m
tired of being frustrated and aggravated about things I can’t control. I’m
giving myself headaches at the least and god knows what else at the most. It’s
been a long time since I’ve been able to look at stupid things around me and
shrug. It’s kind of nice. And I’d like that it continue, but it’s hard when one
is surrounded by just the opposite. But that’s not really my point.
My point is that I’m kind of excited to be able to look at
things through a different filter. When I realized that some things don’t have
to suck so much, it was a great moment. A bit liberating, a bit refreshing, a
lot humbling. It’s true that there are a lot of things I hate about my job. A
lot. But it could be a lot worse. I could be working for minimum wage. I could
have no source of income. The reality is this: I get paid well for what I do.
And I get to travel (repeatedly) for free to places and events that people
dream of their entire lives. And I get paid to do that, too. As a result, I have
made friends all over the country, and sometimes it feels like coming home when
I go back to those places. That’s not a bad gig. My mother makes me crazy.
Crazy. But she’s still here, and I know I need to appreciate that, because it’s
not something I can get back once she’s gone. Same for my grandmother. I’ve got
this great relationship going that I never thought would go beyond a crush. I’ve
managed to stay mostly within my uber-restrictive, hospital-induced diet while
I’m out of town, and have only two days left on it. I’ve also managed to (as
far as I can tell) not gain weight on this dealer trip, and just bought my
first pair of size 8 jeans.
If one were to look at things objectively, I don’t have it
too bad right now. So, I’m taking good-thought donations in hopes that this
improved outlook will continue and that maybe I won’t sent myself into
heart-attack or aneurysm before I’m 30.
