Look at the Stars
I had a bad day at the office – my first one. And it wasn’t even for any one reason. It just seemed to be a compilation of many. I guess that’s how bad days happen.
REM sang, “It’s been a bad day, please don’t take my picture.” Obviously there aren’t droves of people clambering to take my picture like they are of Michael Stipe, but I could still relate. When I have a bad day, I tend to feel ugly. I had many of those days in high school. I would feel weird and out of place all day and dread going home to look in the mirror as I was certain a mess of a person would be in the reflection. I felt ugly and I couldn’t seem to shake that, that feeling, of badness.
It probably has to do with the fact that I have no story list or that a story that I do plan on writing seems impossible, out of my grasp – do I really think men/women who control gas prices are going to talk to me and tell me the truth? Or that another story is boring – who wants to read about seat belts? Maybe it had to do with the caffeine never quite kicking in. Maybe it had to do with the sun coming out (the sun never comes out) and me being inside. Maybe it had to do with the thoughts that plagued me the night before – thoughts of being somewhere in Asia, or any location that has blue waters and white sand, or any location that’s not here. I’ve come to realize that thoughts of fleeing actually don’t have anything to do with where I am in the present moment. Right now, it’s just natural for me to constantly be thinking of the next stop.
I left work at 5 and left the bad day.
Amy, at water aerobics, is becoming more and more familiar. Talking with her is more comfortable and less formalized. I told her, toward the end of the class, that I had a bad day at work. It was my first trial at confiding in someone here (in a non drunk atmosphere).
After my aquatic exercise, I went to a lecture on Prague, part of the Chitaqua Series. We have a photographer who lives in Wrangell who spent his first 25 years in Prague. He and his wife escaped when it was under Communist rule. He spoke of his hometown, in what is formerly known as Bohemia, with pride but said, “No,” when asked if he’d ever want to move back. “We’ve been here for 37 years. I’m an American now. An Alaskan.”
When I walked home, I happened to look up and there was a clear sky full of stars. I hadn’t seen the stars yet here – it’s always so overcast. But they were out tonight and they shocked me and I arched my neck back in awe. I wanted to stay out there for a bit, but it was freezing, one of the coldest nights I have experienced here so far.
The stars made up for the bad day, completely. Other events that night had almost made me get over it, but the stars --
REM sang, “It’s been a bad day, please don’t take my picture.” Obviously there aren’t droves of people clambering to take my picture like they are of Michael Stipe, but I could still relate. When I have a bad day, I tend to feel ugly. I had many of those days in high school. I would feel weird and out of place all day and dread going home to look in the mirror as I was certain a mess of a person would be in the reflection. I felt ugly and I couldn’t seem to shake that, that feeling, of badness.
It probably has to do with the fact that I have no story list or that a story that I do plan on writing seems impossible, out of my grasp – do I really think men/women who control gas prices are going to talk to me and tell me the truth? Or that another story is boring – who wants to read about seat belts? Maybe it had to do with the caffeine never quite kicking in. Maybe it had to do with the sun coming out (the sun never comes out) and me being inside. Maybe it had to do with the thoughts that plagued me the night before – thoughts of being somewhere in Asia, or any location that has blue waters and white sand, or any location that’s not here. I’ve come to realize that thoughts of fleeing actually don’t have anything to do with where I am in the present moment. Right now, it’s just natural for me to constantly be thinking of the next stop.
I left work at 5 and left the bad day.
Amy, at water aerobics, is becoming more and more familiar. Talking with her is more comfortable and less formalized. I told her, toward the end of the class, that I had a bad day at work. It was my first trial at confiding in someone here (in a non drunk atmosphere).
After my aquatic exercise, I went to a lecture on Prague, part of the Chitaqua Series. We have a photographer who lives in Wrangell who spent his first 25 years in Prague. He and his wife escaped when it was under Communist rule. He spoke of his hometown, in what is formerly known as Bohemia, with pride but said, “No,” when asked if he’d ever want to move back. “We’ve been here for 37 years. I’m an American now. An Alaskan.”
When I walked home, I happened to look up and there was a clear sky full of stars. I hadn’t seen the stars yet here – it’s always so overcast. But they were out tonight and they shocked me and I arched my neck back in awe. I wanted to stay out there for a bit, but it was freezing, one of the coldest nights I have experienced here so far.
The stars made up for the bad day, completely. Other events that night had almost made me get over it, but the stars --
posted by Siapiau | 1:38 AM
1 Comments:
Lets see a pic of those stars!
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