Long weekends make for day to day confusion. Wednesday I thought it was Friday. Thursday I thought it was Saturday. Friday I didn’t know what day it was. Today I am similarly confused, although it feels suspiciously like Wrist to Forehead Sunday.
As you may have guessed, this is going to be a crappy post.
Sometimes when you are in the middle of a long weekend, and having a perfectly nice time about it, there are moments when you feel that you just don’t feel as wonderful as you feel you ought to feel. And you can rarely make yourself feel other than what you damn well feel; I don’t care what the Facebook memes tell you you can do.
I’m not asking for sympathy, so stop playing those miniature violins with that unbearably superior fake-sympathetic look (really, you just can’t say some things to some people). I know I’ll feel better subsequently. My problem is, I want to write a blog post NOW, hit publish, and get on with my evening.
I got a lot of odds and ends done this morning and had a certifiable Mohawk Valley adventure this afternoon. There is no reason to feel vaguely irritated, downright downhearted or any way other than satisfied and contented with my lot in life. To remind me of this only increases my irritation and downheartedness by adding guilt to my other ills.
My best bet in these circumstances, I’ve found, is to just don’t worry about how I feel and drive on, getting done what I wanted to get done and trusting that things will change in due course. My main thing to get done now is to publish a blog post (how’s this for a Freudian typo: I put “blot post”). And here are over 250 words of nonsense that somebody might find mildly amusing. Happy Saturday everyone and I hope to see you on Sunday, when I hope my wrist will not be on my forehead.