You're on vacation and having a great time, when an event happens that triggers all those old feeling of self doubt, which always leaves you feeling sullen and you really don't want to talk about it because this is the1,547,845th time that you've felt like this and you know it will pass (plus you are likely slightly hormonal which isn't helping anything) when you realize that your debit card is gone and so you call the bank, make all the arrangements. The card is cancelled, you have a second account and extra cash. Life should continue as normal. You gather your bags and prepare to check out of your hotel.
Then the bottle of hard cider you bought on your trip, which thus far has survived being packed full of fermented liquid, being transported in the back of a truck, hauled into a store, put on a shelf, bought by you, carefully carried in a sac until you set it down ever so gently on the floor of the hotel lobby, tips over and (crack!) spills its contents onto the floor. The hotel staff graciously mop up the spill, you pay your bill and are on your way.
You make the journey back home, doing your best to just remain quiet because at this point you've moved from sullen to cranky and you just want to make it home where you can deal with your angst in private. And you do just that (mostly). You drop your bags on the floor and think to yourself, "Yes, I made it."
So you take your self out to dinner, because you don't feel like cooking and you have a great time. The food was delicious, the service fantastic and you really enjoyed yourself. You are feeling good, you just might go home and do some writing. After you have a bit of a treat...
...and that is when you find yourself sitting in the middle of your kitchen floor crying while holding a package of smushy chocolate that was once the world's best maple creams from your favorite chocolate shop (which by the way requires a six hour drive AND a passport to get to) which melted into unrecognizable goo somewhere along the way. You can't believe how your day has suddenly gone from kind of bad to down right awful.
This is where I wish I could say, my kitties did something adorable to make me laugh, or I got an unexpected call from a friend which cheered me up, or that I had a moment of clarity in which I thought how this was really a small thing and life goes on, but none of those things happened. Instead, I poured a glass of wine, popped some popcorn and watched a few episodes of Desperate Housewives on Hulu.
I feel better.
Now, I'm not saying that now, sitting here on my couch, surrounded by purring felines, that I'm feeling full of happy thoughts; I'm still grumpy but I'm okay. My few hours of escapism gave me some time to get a little perspective. I realized that, after all, little things are just that, little things and though they can tip the scales either way some days, on occasion they also lead to interesting blog posts.