It was a "what's it all for" sort of day, a Cat in the Hat sort of day, although not cold or wet. We work so hard, don't we? Most of us, anyway? I stayed in tonight. There were people calling wanting to do Friday night things but at the last minute, when I realized how much of the rest of my weekend was going to be given over to activity and conversation, my car turned homeward...Food for my dog and some friends to talk to, a bath and a glass of wine, my poetry homework, seemed like a better alternative for the rest of the evening, and they have been. This is enough tonight, although nothing is feeling quite like enough, if that makes sense at all.
I heard "In My Life," by the Beatles last night, and I cried for the first time in a while, in the cold, in my car. It's one of my favorite songs. It's so short, and yet there's so much in it. There is so much love around me sometimes that I really feel ungrateful for my bitchy, crappy moods and involuntarily sarcastic observations. Underneath it all, I want the people I love to know that there is sunshine and lollipops intended for them - honestly, always (except when they REALLY piss me off). I've never been a person who knew how to show that without fail at the appropriate times. I've always seen too much, had too much throttling through my brain all at once, for that kind of simple happiness. An old friend in Dayton said once, "Nothing escapes you. Everything has...weight." No one had ever phrased it that way, but I never forgot the way she looked when she said it.
There is also so much pain around me at the same time that I'm not sure what to do with it all. So I'm singing a lot, for lack of a better cure. You should sing, too, even if you think you can't. It really does make a person feel better - or at least this person.