Today I write with a slightly heavy heart. My apartment is chilly, the sky is cloudy, the air outside is bitter and there is a slight dusting of snow covering the ground. As the day approaches four o'clock, it hits me: Late afternoon is the most depressing time of day.
I am not sad, but speculative. Something about the midwinter chill brings a wave a nostalgia to my mind and leaves me feeling sort of mournful. As I sit here, I reflect on lost or broken friendships, long dormant memories of warm nights filled with laughter and excitement, the invincible feeling that precedes a bad decision.... I hear the introductory notes of Tennessee Ernie Ford's Sixteen Tons come over the radio and suddenly I feel "another day older and deeper in debt." I stare off for a moment to reflect on this and am only brought out of my reverie by the sound of Betty, my eccentric black cat, who is the only living creature that snores while awake. This brings a smile to my face and I remember that, despite the grey surroundings of this particular moment in time, I really do have it good.
Although I often complain about the mundane life I lead, the lack of excitement in my work and the overall mediocrity I feel personally, I am blessed beyond compare. The people, places and things in my life are certainly not perfect, but they are mine all the same and are, therefore, an essential part of my being. There is nothing in the world that would even tempt me to sacrifice a single one of them for something "better." Nothing.
With that thought in mind, I make the decision not to wallow in self-pity for the rest of this melancholy afternoon. No, instead I will close the blinds and turn on all the lights in my apartment to brighten up the mood and see if I can't get Betty high on catnip because there is nothing more precious in this life than simple pleasures.
I am not sad, but speculative. Something about the midwinter chill brings a wave a nostalgia to my mind and leaves me feeling sort of mournful. As I sit here, I reflect on lost or broken friendships, long dormant memories of warm nights filled with laughter and excitement, the invincible feeling that precedes a bad decision.... I hear the introductory notes of Tennessee Ernie Ford's Sixteen Tons come over the radio and suddenly I feel "another day older and deeper in debt." I stare off for a moment to reflect on this and am only brought out of my reverie by the sound of Betty, my eccentric black cat, who is the only living creature that snores while awake. This brings a smile to my face and I remember that, despite the grey surroundings of this particular moment in time, I really do have it good.
Although I often complain about the mundane life I lead, the lack of excitement in my work and the overall mediocrity I feel personally, I am blessed beyond compare. The people, places and things in my life are certainly not perfect, but they are mine all the same and are, therefore, an essential part of my being. There is nothing in the world that would even tempt me to sacrifice a single one of them for something "better." Nothing.
With that thought in mind, I make the decision not to wallow in self-pity for the rest of this melancholy afternoon. No, instead I will close the blinds and turn on all the lights in my apartment to brighten up the mood and see if I can't get Betty high on catnip because there is nothing more precious in this life than simple pleasures.
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