I almost pulled it. I may still pull it. I don't do angsty well. It makes me itch. I don't want to be an emotional black hole, sucking the life and color out of the world around me. I prefer that my goat not be gotten.
It's the small things. I didn't even mention the big things.
I tell the son, who is excelling at being a teenager some days, find the one good thing. The girl you like who smiles at you, the amazing cloud in the sky, the happy coincidence of that good song popping up on your iPod.
(I said some other things, too, about birds and cars and schadenfreude because I am only human. I mean, I shoot for superhuman always, but I do miss the mark.)
So, the week stank for a lot of reasons. The one good thing is that we'll go to our Friday night Mexican joint tonight and all the staff we have known for years and years will stop by our table to say hi. This is what they do. It is friendly and nice and reassuringly familiar.
And thus, I paste on my non-committal smile once more and move forward.
Go listen to some good music: "Keep the Car Running" from the album Neon Bible by Arcade Fire.