Happy, cheery, spunky people are annoying. To me anyway. I was born a realist. And to realists there is nothing to be happy, cheery or spunky about. I’ve grown comfortable with my sarcasm and my complete conviction that the glass is always half empty. ALWAYS. I love that quote from the movie title that Jack Nicholson is in- “Is this as good as it gets?” I mean your born, you deal with a bunch of shit then you die. There’s your life narrative for you. I remember being 13 and standing at the rim of the Grand Canyon, looking out over it and realizing how insignificant I was. How insignificant we all are. Pretty profound for a 13 year old. Don’t I sound like someone you’d just loooove to spend time with?
But apparently happy, cheery, spunky people are contagious. Annoyingly contagious. I feel like Benjamin Button. I think I am aging backwards. I was more “grown up” at 13 than I am at 41. What the heck? I was such a serious child and teenager. Everything was so black & white to me. You follow the rules, you get to places on time, you don’t tolerate half-assedness. Is that a word? If it’s not I’m taking ownership right here right now. Half-assedness (the act of not doing a task to your full ability). I was such a rule follower when I was younger. And now…NOW I do all that I can to learn the rules and then break them. Now I know things are not always black & white…there’s a lot of gray. Now I’m actually late sometimes…but mostly that’s my kids’ fault. Now I think there might just maybe probably be a chance the glass is actually half FULL. AND WORST OF ALL….I’m happy and cheery and spunky. Well, most of the time. It’s awful. I feel like I’ve betrayed my true self. What has happened to me? At 13 I hadn’t experienced tragedy of any kind. No real sadness or loss. At 41 I have had plenty of tragedy in my life. Plenty. And a lot to be sad about.
I’m thinking maybe there starts to be a basic appreciation as you age that you are actually still here. “Wow. I’m still alive! Pretty cool. Now I need to get off my ass and enjoy it.”
I struggle with aging just like everyone. I don’t like wrinkles or age spots or the minor pains in my joints or making a grunting noise every time I stand up. I am definitely not in love with the consequences of a jumping jack at my age or the fact that I’ll never EVER jump on a trampoline again without some sort of “protection”. I know…TMI… Whatever! But I AM in love with being alive. I am grateful every day that I wake up. And I guess that makes me happy, cheery, spunky and annoying. And throw in a bit of sarcasm and snarkiness cuz I’m pretty sure that’s not going away either.
I know that exercise has always been my anti-depressant and since I’ve kicked it up a notch recently maybe there’s something to be said about that. Maybe it’s these peaceful, majestic mountains I get the pleasure of looking at everyday. (No I’m not smoking “local plants”…yet) Maybe it’s the fact that my kids turned out pretty decent (so far). Maybe it’s the cool husband that got stuck with me. Maybe it’s just really who I was all along. When you live your life as if the other shoe is always about to drop it’s pretty hard to enjoy the happy moments. I am certainly enjoying the happy moments now. And….if the other shoe drops….I’ll just enjoy it all bare footed.