Something about the tune rubbed me the wrong way, so I turned off the radio and then flipped it the bird for some reason that I didn’t understand at the time.
Over the course of the day, however, I realized that being positive hasn’t been so easy for me lately. That would explain why I gave poor Bobby McFerrin the finger.
Sorry, Roberto. My bad.
Some of you might recall that around this time last year, I started to see a therapist at the urging of The Sweet Irish Girl. We were broken up at the time, and I was eager to win back her heart, so I agreed to give therapy a shot.
Trust me, I know I’m not perfect, but it’s never been easy for me to open up to anyone. I was raised to believe that talking to a stranger about my problems was a sign of weakness. It was also better to bottle up those emotions and never, ever allow them to escape.
Talking to the therapist definitely helped. I began to take a much more positive approach to life, and I won back the heart of the woman I loved.
Eventually, therapy came back to bite me, of course, when I tried to use coping skills I’d learned in my sessions to defuse a tense situation with The Sweet Irish Girl. Rather than making it better, it caused the problem to escalate, and she decided to stay on her side of the ocean and never speak to me again.
My therapist swore up and down that the approach she’d taught me should have worked, but I’m sitting here alone and bitter as proof that it did not.
Well, I wake up every morning expecting to have a good day, finally meet that special someone, find a way to work full time as a writer, and discover a Snapple dispenser in my living room.
None of that $%^& ever happens, though, which leads me to conclude that not only am I insane, but life also sucks.
Seriously, I have tried to remain upbeat. I have looked for the silver lining in every situation. I have declared my glass to be half full. I have adhered to the philosophy that while life might not be good at the moment, it is definitely getting better.
Then this morning, I’m flipping off a song that’s encouraging me to remain positive.
I’ve done the dark clouds. I’ve known doom and gloom. I’ve spent the weekend collecting all the half empty glasses I’ve left in my wake.
So let me ask you this, Modern Philosophers: When does life become good?
As I’m writing this, I’m listening to my poor kitty struggling with her stuffy nose. After almost three weeks of her being perfectly fine, she’s suddenly back to being unable to breathe through her nose, and won’t go near her food because she can’t smell it.
And I’m supposed to believe life is good?
Go sell your crazy somewhere else. I’m too pissed off at the world to deal with any solicitors right now. Trust me, it’s for your own good…
Maybe it would improve my outlook if you were to follow me on my blog and on Pinterest. Can’t hurt to give it a try, right?