Bad Days

I had a bad day yesterday. It was on a day off and I wanted nothing more than to be left alone for the whole day and then I hated when I was left alone but I didn't want to call anyone or really text anyone or even see anyone because I didn't want to be seen having a bad day. I'd strung together a pretty good series of good days and I wanted to keep my streak going. But bad days happen. They just do. Mine started with restless sleep. I was cold and I had to pee, but I wasn't awake enough to fix either, so I just tossed in my bed until it was finally time to crawl out and start the day.

It didn't get much better from there. I couldn't write. I didn't want to do my laundry or get my haircut or wash the dishes. None of the music I listened to sounded right. Nothing I watched could keep my interested.

In case you haven't gotten it by now, what I'm telling you is I had absolutely no reason for qualifying my bad mood. I just had it and that was that.

Which is, you see, the most frustrating part of any bad mood. It's the part you can't define that grates on me the most. You're just in a bad mood because you're in a bad mood and being in a bad mood keeps you in a bad mood. It never ends.

I wasted a whole day on that. During which I actually knew I was in this pointless bad mood but I couldn't get rid of it.

Here's my solution: I'm going to live with it. I was in a bad mood. That happens. I tried to stop it and it got the better of me. That happens too. I won't let that bad mood and wasted day cause another of either one.

Maybe that's a little bit like what growing up is. Realizing that bad happens and not letting it ruin you permanently. Moving forward. Getting up when you've fallen.

And for me, writing again.