Strange Days

Damn skippy the world is a strange, strange place. I had a craptastic evening like I expected and woke up to drizzle and a continuing foul mood, like a bad hangover that no amount of tylenol and greasy food will shake. I went off on a rant about the unsafe conditions at our local mall and how people just needed to be civilized. The spouse told me I was angry. Like his mother angry.

While I love me some good righteous indignation, I do not want to be bitter, old woman angry. I long for crotchitiness in my old age ala "I'm an old southern woman, we are supposed to grow things and wear funny hats," but not "I watch Cavutto at 4pm and rail against anyone that Bill O'Reilly casts his beady eye against."

So I vowed as I left the house to suck it up and be happy, even if I wasn't. To smile at people and force myself to be in a good mood. And then I read my horoscope at work a moment ago:

If you wake up in a blue mood, remember that you can turn things around just by willing them to be different. You can make yourself start feeling good as soon as you start thinking good thoughts! Toss out your worries, your fears, and your preoccupation with unconstructive things. It's important to feel your feelings and give yourself time to process them, but there comes a point when you just have to say 'no' to negative thinking. To help switch your emotional gears, watch a sitcom or visit with a funny friend.

Yes gentle readers, the world is a strange place, but methinks this is a slap in the face from the gods for me to straighten up and fly right. Now if I could just remember which closet I locked that damn pollyanna in . . .