Maintaining a happy-go-lucky, Pollyanna disposition is nearly impossible for me. It's not that I don't try, but I'm really just not that person. So when I tell you that I try, understand that my efforts are Herculean.
I have never understood what inner quality allows one person to seemingly glide through life, ever in a lighthearted disposition. In truth, I've often considered such people to be shallow or simply unaffected. On bad days, I look at them through narrow eyes and think that they are somehow charmed where I am not and am embittered just a little bit.
Bitterness is a cumulative emotion. Like anger, the longer it is maintained (or manufactured), the more easily additional quantities can be added to it. I've fought both of these all of my life.
Part of my make-up doesn't allow me to let things go, which is an interesting thing for someone who claims to manufacture closure on demand to say. Grudges are easy for me. Longstanding arguments become points of pride.
Today, after a solid night of sleep, I feel upbeat. I believe that today I can achieve some things to which I've been meaning to get around. Today I'll start in one corner of my living room (the one with the fan in it) and start to work around the walls.
One of my recent acquisitions is a book by artist Charley Harper. I spent an enormous amount of money on it and it's too big to hold in my lap. When I say too big, I mean that it's 12-inches by 18 and over 400 pages. It weighs 15 lbs. I need a table on which to set it -- my drawing table will do -- but it is choked with the detritus that every flat surface in my place seems to attract.
So today I have ambition and a goal. All of my activity will be facing my windows and it's a beautiful late summer day, so the view is bright, blue and somewhat astonishing.
I've got the 35,000 songs in my iTunes library for company too, so a little rockin' out should help the cleaning and rearrangement along.
It's nice to feel good. It must be the Apocalypse.