- Tall Megan: megan.
- Me: mergan .. nmegan .. megan
- TM: i've decided it's impossible for me to turn down a donut. ever.
ps I’m reading Kendra’s autobiography “Sliding Into Home”
For awhile, a few months ago, maybe more…it feels like more, I used to hate-read the blog of a girl I really don’t like. (Am I the only one who does this? I hope not). When I was feeling low, or masochistic, I’d let myself get sucked into a vortex where I’d suddenly realize I was twenty pages deep in the archives - despising her for writing it, and despising myself for reading it.
She has this amazing life. She’s tall, blonde and a professional athlete with a kickass life in California. She’s also superficial, spoiled, and she really dicked over a good friend of mine, so I’m entitled to harbor unproductive-yet-satisfying spiteful feelings towards her.
She writes about the amazing places she’s going and the work that she’s doing. She also posts pictures of the sunset from her bedroom window, or recounts a particularly satisfying cup of coffee she had that morning. What always gets me is how well she acknowledges it. All of it. It’s not, “I just got back from a trip to Miami.” It’s, “I just got back from Miami, and I can’t believe I’m so lucky.”
It’s this attitude that keeps me from flat-out hating her. Instead, I wonder what makes her tick. Is she happy all the time because her life is so awesome? Or is her life awesome because she’s committed to being happy all the time?
On the one hand, I want to think, of course she’s happy. Look at all the cool stuff she gets to do. But I kind of get the sense that, given different circumstances (if she was, say, a teacher on a modest salary, instead of a pro athlete paid to travel the globe and play sports), she’d still be a really positive, contented person just because it’s her personality.
I wondered if I should be saying that kind of stuff more often. “This cool thing happened, and I’m really excited about it!”
For awhile, I told myself, no, that’s not really me. I’m just not naturally an ebullient person like this girl is. But now I think I was just always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Literally, always. I’d let slip something good happening in my life, or even the glimmer of something good on the horizon, and I’d be afraid something else would happen to counteract said-good thing. And then I’d feel like an asshole for telling anyone how happy I was.
But that’s bullshit. It took me way, way (way) too long, but I’m finally coming around to the understanding that I deserve to be happy and to have good things happen, because I work really fucking hard, and those good things do stick around. Not always, sure, but usually.
So now, I’m slowly making my way towards optimism, coming at it from the side rather than head-on. Day by day, I sneak up on it a little closer, closer. For now, it’s, “Hey, this great thing happened, and man, somebody’s gonna figure out I’m a hack soon enough and it’ll all be gone, but I’m gonna ride the wave for now!” Hopefully soon enough, it will lapse into “Hey this great thing happened, and I’m ridiculously happy about it.” To get from the former to the latter, I suppose I’ll just keep riding the wave.