pt XXIII: Each syllable might be our last

I had this hugely melodramatic post written up and I just erased it.

It's so weird. I spent all this time writing up every little problem I have with the world, and then with the tap of "Ctrl+A + Delete" I let it go. It's weird. I was feeling this strange malaise, and in one instant, it was gone.

I don't know why. It was just more senseless, useless, pointless kvetching. So my life sucks. Hah. I've gotta laugh at the moment. It's no sense getting bogged down with my stupid crap, y'know? It ain't doing me a damn bit of good for the moment, nor, I suppose, any of you, just to bitch, bitch, bitch the night away.

Are things how I'd like 'em? Hell no. But I've got thoughts to get me through the day. Do I have anybody to talk to -- really, really talk to -- half the time? Not really, but I can make do. Am I getting any? Hell no, but I don't even know anybody right now who I want it from.

Grammatical correction: "from whom I'd want it."

I'm gonna try making some improvements in my life. I said, many months ago, that emotion is a mostly conscious state of mind, and I stand by that. Despite my dissatisfaction with, oh, say, every single aspect of my life, I'm not gonna get down for the moment. I can't say what the cause is, but I'm going to take comfort in the things I have, and the misfortunes I lack.

My aunt Lori and I were talking last Sunday about school. She asked about the teachers, and I didn't give that flattering a description of them by and large. She gave me, in response. Actually, it was an anecdote, and a story about telling the anecdote.

First of all, she jokingly asked, "are any teachers dating any of the students?" To which I replied, "No... gross." And she explained to me that many years ago, when she was at Humber College, one of her professors was dating one of her classmates. I laughed. I don't remember his name, but let's call him Peter Jones.

Flash forward several years. Aunt Lori was, at this point, teaching an advertising course at Humber College, and driving to a seminar of some kind with a colleague. And she tells this anecdote, stressing, "yes when I was in school, things were so much wilder... there was even one teacher, Peter Jones who was dating this student of mine."

The woman's response, "Oh... Peter Jones was my husband."

Yowza.

I laughed earlier today when I thought about it. It was one of those hilarous moments I had to share on this blog, while I was in a strangely sunny mood.

Now I don't know if it'll even last till I go to bed tonight, but I'm fine with the universe. I can make the best of my situation... not meaning that to be some kind of perverted reference to "Rivals and Wrongs," but anyway.

I'll leave you in peace tonight. I feel like I'm spreading a little more positive energy into the universe.

Keep on rockin'
Scott