c'est trop beau

After a week of feeling like I had cotton bolls in my brain, weights tied to my feet, and a haze in front of my eyes: I woke up.

I told myself to snap out of it. Not to sweat the small stuff. That all life is an experiment. I also had a one on one meeting with a counsellor for the 'minding your body' sessions, where we concluded that I was a little too confident for it. I am too comfortable in my skin now. At one point it would have been good...but I've come a long way since then. So with all of this in mind, I woke up.

I woke up to realizing there are so many people I really like here. I go into work and we joke and laugh, and I'm congratulated for my sales. They tell me I am mature for my age, even when I dance around the store and sing too loudly. The appreciation is mutual. My boss loves to tell stories; I enjoy listening. The other woman that works there reminds me of a New Yorker; she is Macedonian. She talks quickly and confidently. Tells you what she thinks. She'll snoop into your bag and tell you about it, and somehow you don't mind. She is respectful, just not in the traditional sense. She doesn't like people right off the bat, but I got lucky. We are all Libras and she says I simply balance it all out, that the mood changes when I come in on the weekends.

There's also my friends. Saturday night we sat, mostly sober, talking until early morning. We enjoy each others company. We laugh until it hurts. We talk about the effects of what we do. The things we want to do. Sunday night I made dinner for myself and a friend and remembered the joy of cooking. So much flavor was a wonderful shock to my system.

So there it is: one second your low, the next 'c'est trop beau'.