(Digression. People who've been walking around and, as I've seen, pushing crosswalk buttons with the soles of their feet: Why are you doing that? Don't. Think what shit, figurative and literal, you might have walked through recently. Ugh. There. I've gotten it said. End of digression.) (...I press those buttons with my elbows, for less risk and less ick.) (There. Actual digression's end.)
That Sunday midday, I lounged and thought. And it hit me: for a squad of reasons, I was feeling a little sad. A little off. And I had the feeling: Oh, I have felt like that today. Can I feel better?
That day, I didn't quite manage that. I stayed a little sad. Also stressed.
Today, I was back at Space Monkey. I'd considered getting over there earlier in the day, but I got over there at lunch. Hey, I could have a soda (they sell cans of Blue Sky sugar sodas) as well as lunch. Which was a tuna salad bagel sandwich and coffee, because as I cracked to the staffer who helped me, "I'm in the mood for two-fisted drinking. Not that kind."
The sofa was, again, open. I wound up in the same position as I'd been five days ago. Same view, in the same café, same me. And, I realized, a different, better mood.
Some days are better than others. Overall for me, today was better than last Sunday. I was able to realize that. Sometimes it's an effort to have a better day, but manageable. Other days, you feel low and you don't manage to stop feeling low. That was last Sunday. One rides out those days as best as one can: getting by, trying not to do further psychic damage, taking care of oneself, working to at least not feel lower.
