Sometimes it seems as if all things
come together to create the not-so-perfect day in such a perfect way. The first
pivotal point is that it is a Monday, the day of the week with the worst
reputation for trouble. Monday decided to combine its negative forces with an
unseasonably cold, gray sky to add to the gloominess of the day. Add these
things to a little dose of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) made worse by eight straight mostly
rainy weekends and a usual dsh of middle-aged, hormonal moodiness and you have
an intense concoction ready to ooze negativity at any second.
I know everyone is not like this.
There are those that bounce out of bed to greet any day with happiness,
regardless of weather or positioning of the moon. I really don't understand
these people. They whistle while they work, smile when no one is looking, and
try to spread their sunshine on every gloomy day.
I came in contact with such a soul
while working at the pregnancy center years ago. A friend and I jokingly named
her June Cleaver because of her polished and perfect appearance. Her good
mornings were filled with such sugary-sweetness that they made you want to
reach for a salty chip just to get the taste out of your mouth.
I was always suspicious of such positive
people, thinking their world could not be so fine as to create their smiling
demeanor. I never will forget the day when June’s arms got tired of holding up
the heavy mask of perfect pretention. As they crumbled under the weight, she sat
alone with me in our break-room. Not a hair out of place, and makeup perfectly
applied, June’s smile disappeared. I sat down next to her and gave her a
knowing look. She said, “You know there are times when things get to you, and
you just don’t feel like helping anyone, in fact you wish someone would help
you.”
I was almost disappointed to find
that even perfect June Cleaver struggled. Although I knew it was true- that we
all did, I had secretly hoped that there might be just one among us that really
did have it all together.
I sat for a moment then simply said,
“I know.”
We shared a half-hearted smile of
well-intentioned, tired women then got up from our places and went on to face the
rest of our day.
Since that day, I haven’t believed
that I would find a real Miss All-Together anymore than I think that Bigfoot
lives in my backyard. I do take comfort in knowing that I am not alone in my
moody Mondayness. I will embrace the times when I feel low, knowing that just
as Scarlett O’Hara said, “After all, tomorrow is another day.” Things will get better, and at least I’m not
having to make a dress from my curtains.
No comments:
Post a Comment