Yesterday was horrible. I should have known it was coming as I was deliriously happy the night prior. (The Rodents had our monthly comedy improv show at the Avenue Theater and we kicked ass, if I do say so myself.)
Nevertheless, the morning after brought a downpour of stress and angst - both professional and personal. My brain was tense, twisted and wrought with a thousand details and demands. My soul felt black and blue all over from persistent bottom-of-the well loneliness. Several times, I just had to go and lie down, shut my eyes, enforce denial, shed some tears, and just feel it.
Perhaps it is the requisite mid-life crisis that that is trying to break its way through. There is the throbbing mantra of, "Is this really how I am going to spend my life?" and answering, "No. No, it couldn't possibly be." (To my credit, I did stay up all night earlier this week drawing up plans for my Dream, which I will detail in this space when I've completed it.)
I know myself well enough to know how sloooooooowly I sort-of-maybe mature, sometimes, but I'm now old enough to realize how little time I have left on Earth and there is a panic rising within me to create something positive and lasting. Chop, chop.
To alleviate my sense of Loserdom, I try to practice gratitude. Yesterday was a stretch but I came up with one thing. At 10 p.m. last night, I showed up for my volunteer shift at the National Western Stock Show. (I am part of the stage crew for the Wild West Show. I get to hold a long rope with other folks to create a 'chute' for the trick riders to aim for when they stand on their heads or whatever while riding horses bareback at breakneck speeds. They're NUTS and they're my heroes.)
So, I'm standing off to the side, just trying to blend into the wall and drink my caffeine. "Um, excuse me, ma'am," said a soft male voice behind me "Excuse me, please." There is a light sniffing right at my ass and I turn around to see this about three inches from me:
I nearly jumped straight out of my shoes, flattened myself against the wall and clutched my heart. I'm just not around giant, pointy animals that much, what can I say? (Keep in mind that the cowboy on the back is about 6'5", 300 lbs.)
Perched atop the Longhorn steer, the cowboy sighed with great satisfaction and then deadpanned: "I never, EVER get tired of doing that to people."
That was the best thing that happened to me yesterday - I needed a laugh.