I just finished reading a short story that has unnerved me. It was a story about a married couple - the husband is a screenwriter and the wife is a pregnant, unemployed florist. They're so broke, they live as housesitters for a rich family. She was a horrible character - a human being that if I knew, I would despise. I wouldn't even feel sorry for her. I would just cluck to myself about what a miserable waste she is.
The story goes nowhere. The two of them live in a sprawling mansion and she just antagonizes him.
Tell me, what is the point of a person like that?
So. It's hot and it's depressing around here. I spend my days beeping around from the computer to the sofa to the television to the computer again. And I feel my moments fall too quickly through the cracks of the afternoon. Everything's moving too fast. And yet, not fast enough. I fear I will wake up in a blink and 20 years will have passed.
Sometimes I worry that my summer boredom will lead me to become a sour bag who has crusted potential in her bones - too late to spill into the world.
My biggest fear - except for the fear of losing my fingers or my mind - is that I will snub my gifts by dallying in each moment - dragging my feet through time to fight an inevitable ending.
Here's the thing. I don't think anyone sets out to become an antagonist. Nobody I know is motivated by negativity. Yet, perhaps an accumulation of daily pessimism will add up to an unsavory, dissatisfied personality at the end of the story. If I don't check myself on an hourly basis, I could end up frustrated and lonely.
So here is a little pact with myself to make better small decisions. Choose happiness. Choose humor. Choose peace of mind. Let all that wasted time vaporize.
My new book, "How to Love Yourself" will be available in stores October 14. Kidding. I didn't really write a book. But if I did, I guarantee it would have a cooler name.
xo
T.
