get happy

When I passed El Alambre de Oro
I glanced at myself in the lighted windows,
and I didn’t look the way I felt but older,
dressed in shabbier clothes…
fm. Memories of My Melancholy Whores --.G. Marquez

Recycling. Check.
SOMA. Check.
Meeting. Check.
Workout. Check.
Dry-cleaning. Check.
Laundry. ..pending Check.

The usual Saturday life-maintenance day.
I did get a few new cds to review from the station. Clint would like this one I am currently listening to: Dean and Britta (a.k.a. LUNA) Back Numbers. It is all pretty mellow and laid back.
The other is more of an EP for Camera Obscura’s new If Looks Could Kill album. Only has 3 songs and one is from Let’s Get Out of This Country.
Back to my thoughts today.

I decided to disrupt the list to write. And to eat. I keep forgetting to do that lately. Plain yogurt with mixed nuts. If you gotta eat, might as well eat good stuff, right?

I recently finished a book called Long Way Down , a book about 5 people who met on Topper’s Roof New Year’s Eve to kill themselves. They don’t succeed, but instead become a sort of therapy group/support system for the others. There were some profound things that the author mentioned as the book neared the end that stuck. In one of the narratives, the character…probably J.J. said something about how none of them actually wanted to kill themselves because they hated life. In fact, they loved life so much that they couldn’t continue living…I am messing up the point. Still it got me thinking of its profundity (Is that even a word?).

Then today I was skimming a recent copy of O Magazine where I read an article about a woman describing her current job as “soul-filling and her life blood” and she could never leave it, yet the company couldn’t pay her enough to survive, so how could that job really make her happy--fully. Wow. Got me thinking.

Am I happy with my life? Am I being compensated and supported at work?
While driving home, I considered the number of years I have poured into my job--with very little to show.
What parts of my life, if any, give me the most pleasure?

I decided to stop with the chores and start embracing the things that give me pleasure. Too bad, as had I figured it out sooner, I could be living fully.

I gaze at myself in the mirror, and although I am not 90 (like the character in the book I quoted) I feel like that much of the time. Sounds like it is time for a change.


What about you?

uh oh

ok, this isn't gonna work. This is my private blog.
Gotta change that..