​Bad day, happy people

There are random days when you wake up and feel like meh, blah and all kind of weird inexpressible emotions that end with an -h, without any particular reason. It just happens and you have to deal with it all day long until you go to sleep hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

During this hard time – when my heart fully commits to its part time job, which is pumping blood, and my brain seems to have a meltdown of its own – nothing appears to cheer me up, not even friends and family, apart maybe from random happy people.

Seeing strangers happy about something is kind of interesting and refreshing. I don’t know anything about them, but today (unlike me) is their happy day, and I can’t help but smile.

– A couple of days ago, the parking guy stopped me, to tell me how great Facebook is. ~Oh God I don’t have time for this. Let me just park, make it to the office and be anti-social behind my computer all day. ~ He is always in a hurry but today he wanted to talk. So he continued his story with a huge smile on his face: he found an old friend of his via the social app. They got separated during one of the many Middle Eastern wars (I am sorry, I wasn’t fully paying attention). That friend has accepted his online friendship request and sent him a message. He was so happy, like a kid (when we are truly happy we look like kids, adults don’t do happy… adults have tons of responsibilities.) Anyway. He was amazed that, from his phone, he was able to speak with someone he hasn’t seen for 20 years… I smiled, an honest smile, I was happy for him, and glad I took the time to half-listen. He was sharing his story to everyone who would stop and listen. Everybody was late at work that day…

– I attend a zumba class (this is why I use and abuse of the word “zumba” in many of my posts, I need to make the best out of my gym membership) and in this class there is a girl who doesn’t follow the zumba instructor. She just dances her heart off; she has her own moves. I kinda envy her freedom (and her wealth, why pay for a class if you end up doing your thing?)… She is dancing, jumping… the same way I would dance if I were alone. Meanwhile, in the back of the room, I try to focus and repeat the oh-so-tricky moves… It is more of a brain sport because I put so much effort in managing to move my arms and legs simultaneously…I have zero coordination whatsoever. IT IS THE HARDEST THING EVER! Besides I am sure the happy dancing girl is burning more calories than I am… I look at her and smile, forgetting for a moment my crappy mood. We should all loosen up a little bit and free the dancing girl within us. The only thing I freed is the happy eating girl…

– That same day, I went grocery shopping. FUN. I was still wearing my unbranded uncool “gym” clothes and my frown. The sweat was making me glow. My hair was… what hair? At this point, I had a mess on my head. Long story short, I felt as pretty as a princess. Do I care about people’s stares? Obviously not! I am too busy choosing between slightly green bananas and almost too yellow bananas. As I was focusing hard on my 2000L.L. purchase decision, I heard someone singing. WHO SINGS IN A SUPERMARKET (apart from FICTIONAL characters in movies)? A dude was picking his carrots while singing a weird unknown song. He was genuinely happy. I stared a little bit too much (holding firmly the 4 perfect colored bananas I chose, fearing that someone would take them from me). He didn’t seem to mind and continued his concert while walking towards me. I smiled for a moment and thought to myself: If I happen to watch what the supermarket’s security cameras has recorded, would I be a homeless person or an overly possessive monkey in this spontaneous music video? I am still torn between these two flattering options. 

I came home. I showered. I slept.

It was 9pm. I just wanted this day to be over.

Sandr

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