Chances are this will sound incredibly difficult to believe, or at least to believe that I can sustain it for any extended period of time, but it’s the truth, I tend to find the silver lining in things. Granted I do my fair share of complaining, but I really do manage to work my way to happy. So, in the interest of demonstrating to all my dear friends out there, I won’t link, but you know who you are as you wage a vicious battle with eating and find your way to happy despite the (not) eating battle of your little one, and not getting as much sleep as you would if your little flapper would only dial the cute back and snooze.
This morning I received an email about a workshop for which I was slated to sit on a panel. I was already preparing for three hours in an unconditioned room, but the email changed things. My friend who asked me to be on the panel was not going to be able to make it, nor was another gentleman representing a publishing house. Fine, right? The space we were to be presenting in was also suddenly unavailable, we were switching to a location “under a pavilion near Town Hall.” Ok. And there were less than 6 people signed up. Swell. Then came word from Sean,
“Man, have you heard about the workshop?”
“Sandra is here. She said Mark isn’t going.”
“Yeah babe, just wanted to make sure you knew that.”
A few quick calculations and I realized that it would just be me and the workshop arranger, who is a nice woman, but who I had yet to meet. Her name? Perky, no embellishing here. Ok, great. I had agreed to talk based on my blogging, the panel was about getting published. Though there would be less than six in attendance I felt tremendous guilt as I would be sitting up there in the dusty pavillion unable to say anything of import.
“Listen, at three thirty as you drive home, you’ll be glad you went.” Sean promised tenderly.
I sighed as I turned the car toward the Northway. I thought about people not living up to their obligations, I thought about paying good money for something that doesn’t live up to its promise, I thought about the price of gas and then lo, the local radio station asked me to stay tuned for an oldie. The buildings of Lake George grew smaller in my rear view mirror and the road curved, at times seeming to slice through forest and mountain. Then the car was filled with the head bobbity goodness of The Bangles and I remembered the movie the pixieish lead singer was in and I thought of being stuck in an office and how I wasn’t, and then I thought of you all.
My gift to you is this bit of humiliating ridiculousness that looks like I am attempting to dislodge water from my ears, but is in fact the moment in which I found the joy in my ridiculous Manic Monday. Note the very pronounced scab. Go on now and be joyful!