I almost publicly admitted to being happy. I’ll say day to day things make me happy all of the time…today I said “oh, I’m so happy that I got everyone here for a lesson, yay!” when I had an unexpectedly full music lesson group the period after the ELA ended. (The day before was a wash, because so many kids came in late and forgot that they had lessons right away).
It’s hard for me to say it. It’s not even superstition–it’s that I know I can lose anything at any moment, and I don’t want to deal with the actual embarrassment I feel for being such a fool as to openly recognize it, so I just don’t say it.
I started this post the day after Easter break.
I didn’t get to finish it before it was gone, and I’m not glad that I saved myself the embarrassment. I want that moment back, I want to complete it, god dammit.
I’ll have more happy times down the line. But I wanted to put the way I felt strongly enough to consciously recognize to be in its own bubble, safe from the garbage that’s gone down since then.
Doesn’t work that way.
I wish I were being melodramatic. I’m not. Something very unfortunate happened to me that won’t just disappear from my life.
I will be okay, though. And next time I feel content, I will document the shit out of it.