I am many things but not cheerful. I live in the murk. A bit cross. Slightly panicked. Impatient. Sharp corners. Good cheer is for those who feel able to bask in (or even merely identify) the emotional sunlight. But surely there are things to be cheerful about. I got to thinking. If I ever stumble into a pocket of good cheer, that might be because:
- Something does up. God this is depressing. That half an inch off my waist makes me happy in a way that, say, meaningful friendship doesn’t. I hate that this makes me cheerful. So shallow. Phew, that’s over then… back to feeling mildly ashamed.
- I’m cooking. There is something freeing about cooking. Allowing my mind to wander as I chop or stir. Rather than mentally storming through life. But, cooking? Really? It’ll be ironing next.
- There’s a window of alone time. Not too long (existential fear) and not too short (resentment) but just enough to have a nap, a bath and a bit of reading time. Best that social media is left alone during this window.
- I’m stoned. Yup, I’m one of those. It’s like having a holiday from my personality.
- There are flowers. Never fail to perk me up. Doesn’t matter if I buy them myself. Just having them around is a thing of wonder.
- It’s that bit on some holidays/weekends away, when dinner is done and everyone is replete and not worried about work or commuting or ubers and life feels luxurious. Quite like that. As long as nobody (including me) is being a dick.
- Pink. I like it. So sue me.
- I’m listening to showtunes. Not in an actual theatre though. Ugh.
- Enough now.