Well, I’m feeling better. Partly because the damn holidays are over, partly because the high-level anxiety and huge black hole of depression have both retreated, partly because I’m back at work, and partly because the Selkie visited recently for a cuppa and a long chat. It’s nice to be able to trust someone. (By the by, her book Trueheart is on sale today! If it sounds like your thing, go show some love!)
I have been rather en garde lately. Even my formidable agent has commented upon it. “You’ve been burned,” she says. “And sometimes you don’t even want to turn the stove on, because of it.” Pretty apt. I take some things to heart I probably shouldn’t; a risk of being human. After so long in publishing I have very little patience for some things, and it shows. The risk of being seen as “prickly” or “unapproachable” or “mean” is less and less off-putting, mostly because I’m forty this year and I do not have time to fuck around with that bullshit.
Anyway. Feeling better, that was the subject, right? I was provoked to deep laughter twice this morning, which is a good sign. I like to laugh, especially instead of screaming. Yesterday there was an incident involving shoes in the Little Prince’s gym class. I spoke to the teacher this morning, and wonder of wonders, the kid we suspected know EXACTLY WHERE TO FIND some missing item, though he DENIED STRENUOUSLY any part in moving it from one place to another. I laughed so loud I think I scared the teacher. The second was an ongoing Facebook joke about “Say what again!” ; it’s rivaled only by the ongoing one about “Apologize to my mule.”
I laugh daily, though it may not seem like it. Often, it’s the best response to an absurd situation, of which there are many in my life. (Especially when I am wearing no shoes and a tree-climbing rodent is involved.) Then there’s the fact that I live with two amazing pint-sized (except one is taller than me now, my God, where does the time go?) comedians. Then there’s the dogs. I can amuse myself mightily just by narrating their days.
Still, I haven’t found much career-wise to laugh about for the past few months. Which could just be a function of my sense of humor contracting. One doesn’t last long in publishing if one can’t giggle at heartless, bumbling absurdity.
My mission for today is to find the funny things. I may even have to engage in film therapy–for example, Blazing Saddles, or Life of Brian. Either will do, I suspect. Above all, I need to put on my goggles and loose my whitened knuckles a bit. Soon I’ll be finding everything in my office (not to mention the rest of the house) hilarious again.
Over and out.