Saturday, January 7, 2012

Day 196: Sweepin' the Clouds Away

Aha:
I had a realization the other day while I was washing the dishes.  I don't know why it came to me then, especially since I don't really mind washing dishes, but I just got to thinking that there is no point in really getting upset over much in life.  I only have the one.  Do I want to spend it complaining when something doesn't go my way?  Do I want to spend it getting mad when someone says something dumb or doesn't do what they said they would?  Do I want to spend my life in a bad mood?  No!
I'm not sure how I'm going to stay consistent in this, because after all, I am human--an emotional human--but I feel like I was given a special moment of insight.  I feel like I've been given a second chance to make some changes and improvements in my life and the way that I think.  What am I going to make of my life?  I want it to be a happy one!  So, I've decided to let some things go and let other things go when they come.  Life is too short to be annoyed with it.  The people in my life are too special to take for granted.  My desire to be happy is more important than "being right".
I don't know, I know I'll still struggle and get upset, but I really hope that those times just become fewer and farther between.  If I can have some successes in that, then I'll feel like I am doing better.  This mindset over the last couple days has helped me out of a couple pickles already and THAT makes me happy!

Ha ha:
I decided to use some hair color I had laying around to tint my eyebrows; the color was "Light Golden Blonde" but looked dark brown when wet.  Anyway, I put it on and straightened up my living room while it processed and Clinton studied on the couch.  He happened to glance up at me at one point and with a questioning look asked, "Uh, what's going on with your eyebrows?"  Thinking of the time that my Alzheimered grandpa surprised us all with a good (but unintended) laugh by using black shoe polish on his very white eyebrows (looked very much like Bert from Sesame Street, but much bushier)--I told him I was trying the same thing.  After taking another, longer look he hesitantly declared, "I don't know that that's a good idea.  That can't turn out well."  I started laughing and told him I was joking--he sighed a big sigh of relief.
Really?  How could he possibly have thought I was serious??  What kind of girl does he take me for?  I may be quirky, but it'll take another 50 years and a diagnosis of dementia before I think that lathering shoe polish on my brows enhances my appearance!

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