I’m not positive

As I have been quite the downer lately, what with all my groaning and moaning about the condition of my employment, I felt that it was time to try and write something a little more positive and uplifting.

Nothing came to mind however as I’m still running in the gerbil wheel of hell. I understand that happiness is a choice and a person has to choose the things in this life that will make them happy, however I don’t think I understand how to even make that choice.

I’ve also been a little uninspired lately. Writing is a muscle however and you have to keep exercising it no matter how you feel. It’s a lot like actual exercise, without all the gross sweating through your clothes and cramping. So I continue to write even though I’ve been sort of a sourpuss as of the last few weeks. I can’t imagine that is all that entertaining.

Although we are a wonderfully voyeuristic people and will always slow down to look at the scene of an accident, why should my accident be any different. There I am, standing along the side of the road, a flaming wreck flickering in the night behind me. I’m holding my head in my hands, maybe a little blood trickles from my forehead and I sway back and forth trying to remember how the car flipped up into the air so many times and then wrapped itself around that stone pillar. How am I still standing?  Where’s my shoe?

I think some of my days are very much like that and I get home and wonder, “How the hell did I survive that”? I was just doing what so many other people in the world do and yet I made it and they didn’t. I’m starting to wonder if I have some form of survivor’s guilt.  I seem to know that my life isn’t terrible simply as an idea but I can’t seem to convince myself of it. Like I was the only survivor of a terrible bus or plane accident and I feel bad that I can’t get my life on track, you know, for all those who didn’t make it. Like I owe it to them to have a good, fulfilling life or something.

I know that is a silly thought, you can only live for yourself (maybe your kids for a while if you have them). I’m not sure what it is that I would have “survived”. Maybe it was my childhood. Maybe it was that time I went left when I should have gone right. Maybe I let my imagination run away with me far more often than I should have. Maybe thinking about it too much is in and of itself the debilitator.

I should get back to my initial point though. Trying to be a little more positive and upbeat. Okay, I only have work for two days this week. Thank goodness for the Fourth of July and vacation time. Maybe after that time I’ll have something to be more positive about. I hope so, for both our sakes.