“I just can’t seem to shake this funk. It’s been three days and no matter what I do, how much sleep I get I’m still stuck in this rut,” Amanda grumbled and folded her arms across her chest, sticking out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. Normally a relatively chipper person, Amanda had awoken several days ago in a downright foul mood. There was no reason, no cause for her crankiness, she just hated everything and everyone and wished for nothing more than for the whole world to just get lost already. She had tried everything she could think of to ‘snap out of it’- her favorite foods, a warm cup of tea, catching up on her favorite TV shows, grabbing a nap- nothing worked.
Amanda called all of her girlfriends and set up night after night of ‘decompress time’, and one by one, they all fell through. A nasty storm would pop up, making travel almost impossible, an emergency ear infection or a cancelled babysitter- each cancellation, however justified they were, only added to Amanda’s growing depression. Not able to meet her friends in person, she decided to turn to her social networks for a boost in mood. Unfortunately, it seemed her malaise was catching as almost every one of the posts she read were filled with frustration, regret, anger or flat out despondency. Closing her laptop, Amanda looked around her living room, wondering how to kick her grumpiness to the curb. She could curl up with her book, as was her usual retreat, but the book she was currently reading was all about phobias and the fear of ‘self’. Somehow she doubted that would do the trick for a quick ‘pick me up’.
She could do something constructive, like clean or tidy up her pig sty of a house. Amanda briefly considered this but a wave of exhaustion from just the thought overwhelmed her, causing her to plop down on the couch in frustration. Perhaps another nap? That’s when her attention was drawn to a colorful box on the bottom shelf of the overcrowded bookshelf. A smile crept across her face. She knew what could knock this funk on its butt and kick it to the curb. Jumping to her feet and all but sprinting to the bookshelf yanked the box off of the shelf and ran with it to the dining room table.
Several hours later, standing up to stretch her cramping back, Amanda admired her progress. Staring back at her were the cheery prehistoric smiles of several triceratops, a few pieces still missing from a tail or clawed foot. She was noticeably in a better mood and couldn’t help return the cardboard grins she had carefully pieced together. Now if all things were so easily put back together as a puzzle.
The Not So Fantastic Reality:
The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:
ONE: Well, I had planned on finding a few jolts of inspiration from an evening planned with one of my friends but the weather had other ideas. A storm seemed to whip up out of nowhere and both of us agreed that drinks could wait, lest we be drenched or worse thanks to the inconsiderate thunderstorm.
TWO: So, I’m still in a funk. I hate it. I’ve tried several things to kick the ‘f’ word to the curb, chocolate, comfort food (grilled cheese, tea, cinnamon & sugar toast, fried egg…), got caught up on some of my TV shows, snuggled with my puppy dog, considered cleaning (bleh), put on some good tunage… nothing doin. Ugh. The most frustrating part is that there is nothing in particular that I’m upset about, at least then I would have a focal point for all this latent disgruntlement. I’m going to try one last ditch effort tonight to rid myself of the ‘f’ word… sit down a do a puzzle. Wish me luck!
Love & Squirrels.