I was really starting to think it was just me. That I was just having a bad day. But it indeed turns out that yesterday wasn't just Omar's bad day, but the world at large had a terrible day. Just look at the evidence:
So, yeah, I had a pretty awful day yesterday. How awful? Let's just say that by the end of the day, I just wanted to pack up my things, quit my job, move to Seattle and work in a Starbucks.
I was really stressed out. I had way too much stuff to do, and not enough hours to do it all. This happens a lot, but it's accelerated because of the holidays. Shopping, cards, planning a trip home -- all these things have been added to the usual tall pile and it just overwhelmed me suddenly.
I got snippy with people, even my parents. I wigged out. In the middle of everything, Windows decided to not work and I spent several agonizing hours trying to get Windows ME (stands for "Messy Endeavor") reinstalled.
I went to rehearsal for an LCP fundraiser we're doing Dec. 29 and because of how busy I'd been and with work, I hadn't memorized my lines by the date we were supposed to be off-book. I embarassed myself stumbling through a skit, asking for every other line. We finally had to stop rehearsing the skit.
I kept getting phone calls and e-mails that needed to be responded to immediately. I had to run to the post office. Stuff kept coming up. I hadn't slept enough and the coffee I drank in the morning (after hunting for a half hour for sugar) made me jittery.
I freaked out. I admit it. A year and a half of working at a Whataburger as a teenager made me almost impervious to stress and to letting people's moods affect me. But, damn. Every bad driver, every annoying phone person, every computer glitch and Internet lag just served to make me more annoyed as the day progressed until by nighttime, I'd given up, my chief desire being only to crawl on the couch and go fetal.
I had one (and only one) even vaguely suicidal thought: I considered watching Leno. And then I slapped myself hard on the face, threw some cold water on myself and yelled, "For God's sake, get a hold of yourself man! LIVE, DAMN YOU, LIVE!"
So here I am. Living.
A friend of mine told me a few days ago about several people in her office who were having really bad years. We're talking death, disease, accidents. Really amazingly tragic and depressing stuff. It's sad that it takes that kind of "someone else's tragedy" to make you feel better about your own life. It's sad that we can find perspective in our own situations and that comparing your lot in life sometimes is the only way to work yourself out of a funk.
Things really aren't so bad. They could be much, much worse. And the things going on are all products of things that make me happy, despite how much work it all becomes. I'm overwhelmed because I want to be.
None of it is so bad.
And hey... I'm not the one who has to have sex with Michael Douglas.