A Bad Day

A Bad Day

I have to admit, some days I wake up and I just don’t care. I don’t wanna get up. I don’t wanna do my day. I wanna have toast and tea in bed and complain about the crumbs and the tea being cold. I wanna doze and watch stupid TV and read comic books, stupid magazines and easy novels. I wanna disconnect, I wanna snuggle with the kitties, cry, and not get dressed until 3:00 in the afternoon. From time to time I do just that.

Most of the time I’d rather not.

I’ve learned over my years of taking Mandarin lessons that my brain cycles through high-function times and into low-function times. During those low-function times, it seems I can barely remember my name, much less how to construct a topic-comment sentence with complements of degree.

I think our feelings may do the same kind of thing, and when they do, it’s nice to respect that, give yourself permission to slump, blob, flop.

To enjoy a bad mood for a while is kind of fun, an emotional treat.

It’s when I start living there that I get in trouble.

Paying attention to how we actually are is such an important part of being aware. In my life, it is the difference between being real and talking a good game.

Most days, I wake up on the right side of the bed, happy to start my day, light of heart and easy of mind.

Occasionally, I wake up crabby, notice it, and can tickle myself into a good mood pretty easily.

Every very so once in awhile, I wake up pissy, and I may hang onto it for hours. I think it’s hilarious, so that will often break me out of it, but sometimes it just doesn’t.

I need to pay attention, I need to be aware, so that I can notice if I’m actually in a bad mood, a physical or emotional or mental low ebb, or if I’m indulging in an old, bad habit.

I need to remember the difference between an emotion, a purely physical reaction to a thought, and a feeling, a patterned combination of thoughts and emotions that I have learned as a response to specific circumstances, or similar circumstances.

I need to remember that I am not a victim to my feelings, and that I can change them by changing my thoughts.

And I need to remember that respecting me entails respecting my occasional bad mood, my occasional sick day, my occasional flare of temper, or wash of tears.

I know I will go back to caring a lot about a lot of stuff

Tomorrow will be soon enough.

How have I changed from living in a bad day to only visiting there once in awhile?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2013 all rights reserved 04232013