This is not a Blue Meanie. This is a gorgeous butterfly from the amazing exhibit at the new Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. Prettiest butterfly I’ve ever seen.
Terri and I have a code word for when the grumpies hit. We call them the Blue Meanies. They sit on your shoulder and weigh you down and say untrue things. We hates them.
Today I was trying very hard not to succumb to the Meanies. The day actually started off fairly well. I awoke to the sound of rain pounding on the windows, which always sounds so peaceful and magical to me. Then — thunder boomed! Totally unusual for this area. I loved it. (the kitties… not so much). Once I got to work, things seemed relatively okay. For a couple of hours. And then the bad things started to pile up. Files crashed. Upgrades would not download. PDFs would not generate correctly. Coworkers were being either highly uncooperative or very loud. Before too long, it was a siege of the Blue Meanies.
I tried a few different remedies. I went on a break. I bought a new comb and a silver polishing cloth. I had some lunch. I was a very good girl and just had soup and did not buy any chocolate, although I probably should have.
However, once I got back from my break, the meanies were too big. I caved. I had Jujyfruits (a giant box on sale for .99!). I loved them. They made me sort of sick. But at least I wasn’t weighed down with Blue Meanies any longer.
Shea, who was the one coworker NOT being either obnoxious or too loud, had a very good suggestion. “Abandon ship. Do something else.” So I did. I spent the rest of the afternoon sorting and filing photos. I cleaned my desk. I thought about my gigantic happy pile of creative projects waiting for me at home. I fantasized about long weekends at local Zen retreats.
And by the time I left work, I felt better. No more meanies. Just a case of sugar overdose.
And a reminder to not take things so seriously.
In support of this, I hereby declare it Time To Bring Out The Summer Reading. From now until September, it’s a free-for-all of whatever silly book strikes my fancy. You know, as opposed to my usual carefully selected high-minded literature and edifying publications.
I took a look and counted up my bookcount so far this year: I’m at 30. Pokey puppy! And half the year is over! I had better hop to it if I want to get to 75 by the end of the year, let alone 100 (my annual goal, which I never seem to reach). However, it doesn’t really matter since I’m getting lots more creative stuff done instead of reading. So, either way, it’s all good.