For part of that week, I was being careful to watch for side effects from my second Pfizer vaccine dose, which I got Sunday the 23rd. I also dealt with a stubborn mouth wound (not quite a sore throat). On Friday, I managed to scrape part of my tongue, so another part of me had to heal. I didn't like feeling like a collection of small wounds. (Disclaimer that this is nothing compared to, for instance, chronic health issues which many people have.)
Dreams have often been frustrating, too. I won't recount them, as some of the recent ones I'm actively working to forget.
Mentally, I was often easily bothered. I don't know how obvious or non-obvious this was to anyone. My goal when I'm down is, first, at a minimum, don't inflict my bad mood on other people. How I'm feeling is not their fault. So I at least did that.
One thing that helped: I haven't had alcohol the last several days. I've said it before, I know whatever mood I'm in is going to get heightened when I drink, and why would I want to heighten a bad mood?
And expressing this mood in some way does help, which is why I wrote my latest poem (which has a specific inspiration, but I'm not going to say what it is, though it wasn't inspired by any of you).
Maybe a sign I was in an odd, "off" mood was my deciding on Saturday to watch at least a comedy, but one that was offbeat for me: I finally saw 1963's It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. That's an...aggressive movie. Not what I'd normally try, but I was curious in a film-history way. I wasn't around watching movies in 1963, and comedies often do not age well, so I knew I wouldn't get all of the jokes. Or I'd know that something was a joke but just note it intellectually. As Worf said to Jadzia Dax, "That is a joke! I get it! It is not funny, but I get it."* That said, plenty of it was funny, as at least some of it should be since the cut of the film I saw was two-and-a-half hours long. (The longest version of It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World? Was three hours and 42 minutes long.) I liked Sid Caesar's increasingly convoluted math as he figured how all the people hunting for the money should divide it. It was a pleasure to see the capital-S Star Spencer Tracy loosen up and find more ways to be amusing ("Ya happy now?!"). Jonathan Winters destroying the gas station is still an all-timer. Managing to have an airplane maybe miles back in the frame and still have the sight of that plane be funny is good locked-off comedy framing. (Though whoa, this is a cluttered-looking movie.) And Jimmy Durante LITERALLY KICKS THE BUCKET.
On top of all this, I've done what I can to take it easy. If I was going to be in the bad mood, I could minimize the chances of getting more annoyed. About the only relatively active thing I did was ride with the housemates to New Seasons on Saturday morning to buy groceries. (We stopped at Target beforehand, and I left myself look for something but managed to leave Target without buying anything. It's possible!)
And, yesterday, I realized I really was getting into a better mood. That better mood has extended into today. Okay, me, keep it up.
* Like Jerry Lewis showing up for two shots as a jerk driver who swerves just to run over a hat. Jerry Lewis, as smart as he was about comedy, does very little for me.