I never really bought the idea that going to sleep with bad thoughts or in a bad mood would make the following day equally bad in all respects. I just didn’t think that was biologically sound. With roughly eight hours of sleep in between my bad thoughts and my bad mood, something was sure to change, and I would feel all right in the morning. Maybe I’d forget, or maybe it wouldn’t seem like such a big deal.
But I’m not a biologist, and I guess that shows.
There isn’t anything quite like waking up with that feeling that the pending day is just going to fuck you up. You get this hazy, crowded feeling in your head – like a muddy fog blanketing your brain – and you know that no matter what, you’re going to be mad, angry, short, and pissed off. The world is a battle field, and every single person is wearing the wrong colored uniform. Try as you might, there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
Some call it waking up on the wrong side of the bed. But it seems that I fell asleep on the wrong side. Maybe there wasn’t a right side to rest my head. Maybe the whole bed was damned to hell, and I was damned to have a bad day from the second I got under the covers.
I’m sorry if this is discouraging, or maybe a little cynical. But, unless you’re not a living, breathing person, you know exactly how I feel. To wake up in the morning and curse the sun for absolutely no reason.
Don’t tell me that my day is what I make of it, and that I could turn it around if I chose to. Because I’ll probably show you my middle finger, call you a name that you’d rather not be called, and hold your optimism against you for a very long time.
It’s just one of those days.