Every couple weeks (or couple days) I get a small bout of sadness and most of the time it’s for no reason. Today is one of those days. A day where the weather is grey and rainy, I’m tired,no amount of caffeine is helping and I will more than likely miss my bus as I stand on the other side of the street watching it drive off from the bus stop.
But here’s the thing, I think I enjoy being sad. For some reason I love having the ol’ blues. I will wake up, realise I feel a bit down and I’ll indulge. On goes the playlist of Adele,Lykke Li maybe a bit of Travis (remember them?) the soundtrack of my day and then I’ll search my brain for the box marked ‘Jen’s Depressing Thoughts’, open it and inwardly weep over how “awful” my life is and how poor I am and also how I’m out of Nescafé mocha sachets.
If any friends happen to text me I’ll proclaim my sadness to them the same way someone in love wants to shout it from the rooftops. And maybe if I’m lucky they’ll be having an awful day too and we can both basque in the glow of each others misery, comparing how terrible we both feel while trying to out-sad the other one.
Nothing beats getting home at the end of a woeful day and putting on a heartbreaking film you can shed some tears over and “relate” your life to in a metaphoric way. Titanic: My life is just like the ship, quickly sinking and dragging me down with it while everyone else around me sales to happiness in their lifeboats. See what I mean?
Being happy is for shmucks, I was happy last week, briefly, and look at me now. A little bit of happiness isn’t worth the come down. Much better to be miserable all the time and crush any happy thoughts with some harsh reality.