- “He turned around angrily on the others and said “Everybody crowds round so in this Forest. There’s no Space. I never saw a more Spreading lot of animals in my life, and in all the wrong places.” ” ~ Eeyore – AA. Milne
I have to admit it, I have been in a blue funk to beat all blue funks. I mean on the outside I am okay but on the inside I am shaking my fists at the heavens and crying “what does it all mean?” or alternately putting my face into my fists and shaking my head and crying out “why, why, why” I know, it’s so whiny my problems so terribly first world. So incredibly small.
The blue funk is evidenced by not doing, not doing art, not sewing, not knitting, not reading, not writing. The blue funk is evidenced by the three piles of books I have 1A. Keep 1B. Keep but take to work 2. Morgan 3. Sell or throw away. Is evidenced by the bags of clothing that I have gotten rid of, though they still fit, and shoes, and purses, and crappy belts they sell you with pants, as if I don’t have one of my own to wear with them, or would rather wear a cheap crappy one than the good one I do own. Is evidenced by the outdated and broken electronics getting bigger and bigger by the minute. Is evidenced by the organizing of my knitting stash, my sewing goods, and today my classroom. I finally got around to organizing my fiber closet (its been only ten years), in which a discovered a half dozen back-strap loom parts. (cool) and I organized another stack of shelves where I will be putting all the art books that I am clearing out of my house. The blue funk is evidenced by a decided demeanor of abject despair and dejection. I feel like Eeyore.
On Monday I won a trivia contest at work and received a 5$ gift certificate to the book fair, which I used to by a book for the little Nepali girl I was working with last week and discovered how bad her reading skills are, though she has been in school since kindergarten. She told me, oh thank you Missus Gregory, oh thank you, and hugged me four times. Last week she showed me her fleece jacket, remember, she said with a smile, you buyed me this? Yes A. I do remember. I bought it for her three years ago. She is still so tiny.
As I was leaving work I noticed hundreds of Red Admiral butterflies in the air swooping across the parking lot, followed closely by grackles and some other birds. All the way home their bodies dotted the sky. I have never seen a migration of this level before. It was muggy and hot. I mowed the lawn, sad to cut the full yard of blue forget me nots. And after I cleaned my room and organized another part of the house, I decided to exercise, going 3 miles as the sun slowly sank into the horizon.
I still feel down. I know why, it is stress, and powerlessness, and a deep tired, of the insanity of our world.