Sometimes it is hard to get out of your own pile of shit. It's hard to realize there are other people out there with their own problems, because you are buried so far underneath your own. My work is so shitty right now because we are understaffed. I am inconvenienced because the insurance adjuster keeps going on vacation and not approving our claim so we can start construction. My wine glass is empty and I don't want to walk to the kitchen.
It's easy to fall into that hole of self pity and just wallow there, with a bottle of wine and reality TV. I mean, I guess that is how you would do it. If you had money for bottles and didn't have to buy boxed. Ahem.
I am completely guilty of this from time to time. I found myself in a full on wallow today. I could practically feel the whining as it came out of my mouth.
Then my coworker started telling me about the problems he is having with mold in his basement, his wife isn't speaking to him, and so on. It snapped me out of my funk and made me realize that I need to stop being so damn negative all the time. There is no reason for it. I am not a glass half empty kind of person...I am a the glass is not only half empty, but it is filled with rat poison and dead puppies kind of person. Some bullshit I keep telling myself about if you expect the worst, you never get let down. Yes. I realize that I just wrote the first chapter to every self help book ever in that one sentence. I SO GET IT. I am trying. I will never be that chipper person who has sunshine-y thoughts all the time and shits out rainbows. I hate those people. Maybe because I wish I was like them, maybe because they are so fucking annoying I want to beat them senseless with the rainbow coming out of their ass. This is what the therapy I can't afford is for.
I am trying to expect the best and not the worst. To see the best, and not the worst too. I am trying to trust that people aren't always going to fuck me over. But it is hard. And when met with hard, I usually call it's bluff with a bottle of wine and a book I can get lost in for a few days.
Do you ever wish that you could have some sort of helmet you put on that allowed you to live the book while you read it? Somebody needs to invent that shit right now because, you guys, I would never stop reading Harry Potter. I would probably be committed.
Scratch that...nobody invent this. Unless insane asylums allow wine. Then I'm good.
I have no idea what happened to this post.
On a side note, the girl I picked up on the street, who we are now calling hooker, is kind of awesome and is so going to be my new BFF. Or murder me. Even if she does keep insisting she is not going to murder me. But, wouldn't all the psychopaths say that?
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