I’ve told you before, that I, and only I, am solely responsible for the pleasantness or unpleasantness of each new day.
Now I haven’t always thought that way. When I was a young thing I thought I was on this earth for others to acknowledge, entertain, and amuse, but I’m wiser than that now. I know better than to put that kind of heavy unreasonable burden on my mate or offspring. So, in realizing this, I also realize that most days I simply make my own choice. But sometimes, I can’t. And on those days amusement has to come from somewhere. Without a small tickle or brief amusement, I can’t raise myself out of the pit.
This morning I was in the pit. Talking positively to myself while I washed and dressed didn’t help. Writing a list of things to be grateful for didn’t help. So I remained in a funk while I drank my morning java and then doggedly loaded laundry. While I was downstairs I grabbed a loaf of bread and meat for supper from the freezer. Still in a funk.
And then I laugh.
The bread I pull from the freezer has a small sticker that says:
I chuckle as I remember the day I mixed that bread and baked it and then didn’t know if I put in any yeast. And when Hub asks me what the sticker on that bread loaf says and I tell him, he laughs too.
And the label on the package of beef says, “Pound fast, cook slow.” This was a cheap cut of meat with very little marbling so though sliced into lovely steaks, I wanted to be reminded when I went to cook it that it was not meat for quick grilling.
Maybe these little chits don’t have the same impact as a good laugh over a comical situation with friends that come for coffee and maybe it isn’t rolling-on-the-floor humor. Maybe only someone like Mr. Bean (or his teddy-bear) could appreciate this kind of warp. But still some days it is enough to make me a lot more cheery than I might otherwise be.
I guess what you need to understand is with my memory fading, the notes in my deepfreeze are as surprising to find and pleasing to read as letters from an outside source. On a bad day, like today, it is particularly nice to know someone is/was thinking of me.
What funk? Who? Me?
Nah…It’s going to be another fun day.