On Recovering From Bad Days

Things were going well today, I slept amazing after only getting three hours of sleep the previous night. I had a tasty, if not rushed breakfast. I had a delicious second breakfast a few hours later. Media and consumer culture was interesting as ever, and Dr. Paterson’s charming British accent and soft voice could lift the dreariest spirits. However, during Small Group Communications I kind of lost “it.” This of no fault of Mr. Dutcher, but during the class my mind was flooded with all sorts of fears, regrets, paranoia, thoughts of loneliness and of sexual desires. These were by no means day-dreams I allowed myself but rather a constant storm of thoughts that I tried and failed to brush off. The class ended and I raced to get home and relax. On the way I filled up my water thermos and proceeded to drop it and spill the entire contents all over Posvar Hall. I saw people staring at me. I picked up the now empty thermos and just walked out of there as fast as possible, embarrassed and angry. On the way home I abandoned my usual confidence with crossing the street in front of cars and instead waited for all the cars to get out of the way first, and I cursed my awkwardness. All of this, while in sweltering near 90’s heat and self conscious about my sweaty appearance.

When I got home I didn’t lay down and let myself think about how bad the day was, and try to sleep it off. I did things. I watched dumb Vines, I watched dog videos that made me laugh, I played a little guitar. I went shopping for ingredients, I made a spinach alfredo pizza. On recovering from bad days: have faith in doing things, and keep doing things until things get better.

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