Yesterday was not the best of days.

I was in this mood that just pervades all interaction, causing everyone to feel like the enemy. I rushed out of work when I could and headed over to the gym, sure that it was my lack of eliptical time that was causing me to feel so damned out of it. I rode it for my usual 20 minutes and did the bike, watching 'The Simpsons' the whole time. I stretched. I left. I got into the car, and I cried. I felt completely lost, and not in the 'on a desert island with Matthew Fox' sort of way.

Mind you , it's been a long while since I have had one of those moments where I know what it feels like for a girl. That time of the month and just nobody understands. And in the past, this has gone on for days. This feeling of being uncertain about life, and the anger that comes from that dazed state. However, something about last night was different.

I got in the car and I drove. But I had a moment as PJ Harvey's "You Said Something" played into the car, where I thought about what I was doing to myself.
I was perpetuating this feeling of depression.
I was creating it by playing 'sad' music and lingering on lengthy thoughts of "there's no one to talk to."
I remembered seeing my parents last week, and how excited they were for me and my life. And the laughing we did on pictures from the past. I thought of my best friend Jessica and how she is always there for me and would be there for me at a second's serious notice. And not just her, but my other friends who are always giving me such love. And "Jump" came on, and I got all into that and I figured that life is not worth the beating I was giving myself. I don't deserve hell from anyone, especially myself.

Sure, there are crappy days, but fuck it. Time goes by. And we move on. I went home. I ate. I showered. I went and had a couple of drinks at MJ's and a good time.

I let go.

And I feel so much better today. Maybe it was the vodka? Regardless, I am proud of the fact that I caught myself just seconds before I hit the ground.

It's like The Hudsucker Proxy and you see Tim Robbins plummeting towards the ground. And just before he hits his end, he stops and gently lands on the ground. He gets up, running in glee at the sheer joy for life.
Now I wasn't giddy or anything, but I was sure glad to not wake up this morning with bruises.

Not that that is always a bad thing after a night at MJ's, right?

What about it?