I just had one of those lovely Sundays that usually elude me. It seems like I always get to the end of my weekend and feel disappointed that I didn't use my time better. However, after a very hectic week, I decided to let myself relax. So, today, after making waffles for Mikael and seeing him off to work, I took time to stare out the window and daydream, transplanted my houseplants, made a new succulent garden (in a sad attempt to keep the spirit of California alive in our home), and made cookies to send my sister (since she won't be coming home for Thanksgiving). It seems I had forgotten what excellent company I am.
This evening I've been enjoying the couch in my pajamas and picking and choosing songs to play as loudly as I please, fighting the urge to lie down on the floor and have a good cry. I know. This sounds troubling, but I'm a melancholic soul, so sometimes, I just feel like I need to revert back to my melodramatic teenage self and play my favorite song on repeat until the tears come. But, here's the catch - I have nothing to cry about (other than that stack of ungraded papers). And, tonight, I found this both comforting and unsettling. It's like I don't know how to cope unless I'm coping.
So, how long does it take to get used to happy?
2 comments:
I don't know...I think, for the most part, I have a pretty damn happy life. But I feel what you're describing often. I associate it with my ambition...having such ambition and drive makes it difficult to pause and appreciate and enjoy.
So, I have to make a conscientious effort to pause and enjoy. I'd hoped that perhaps I'd start to do it more often and unconsciously. That hasn't happened yet. I'll keep you posted.
I think you and I are similar in this respect--we function best when under the gun. If there's no gun, we flail about, right? Stupid gun.
To answer your question: It takes as long as it took you to get..to happy.
How's that for deep and philosophical?
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