An Average Monkeypants....

I probably shouldn't waste the space today whining that I hate Mondays and I can't believe the weekend rushed by so quickly. After all, I pretty much say that every week. Not much changes about that fact.

Of course, today has the added non-bonus of being a Federal Holiday. It's Columbus Day. Unfortunately, only some people get today off. Some lucky people. I am not one of these lucky people, alas. Thus, I am here, excited to begin work.

Did that sound sarcastic? It probably did. I've been told that every word that comes out of my mouth is sarcastic. This is by someone at work; actually, my boss even said that to me. While I tend to think I'm more sardonic than sarcastic anyway, I actually get a little frustrated that he thinks of me that way. Sure, I have a dry sense of humour but sometimes, I actually do try not to sound remotely sarcastic and yet, he walks away, shaking his head without responding to my comment. I think sometimes that's the problem with having a British accent; people think we're being snarky when we're not.

So, I'm going to try not to be snarky today. I really don't have any reason to be. My weekend was pretty nice, if a little brief. I had a productive day on Saturday. I even started Christmas shopping. My theory this year is that Christmas is expensive and if I spend a little money with each paycheck, starting now, I might actually be able to get through the holidays without feeling completely financially drained.

The problem that I did have on Saturday was that I woke up in a bad mood. It was one of those days where nothing seemed to go right in the beginning. I tried to log on to my computer to find a Whole Foods market and it turns out that not only is my fairly new Dell Mini acting up but my desktop either gives me the Blue Screen of Death or it's as slow as molasses. I have a sneaking suspicion it's because I subscribe to the most basic internet service of my Cable provider and they want you to upgrade so they make it slow. This is frustrating, especially when you're impatient...and I am very impatient.

Aside from that, I woke up just feeling...blah. I don't know if you ever have those days but I do, every so often. I mentioned last week how sometimes I wish I had more of a career and less of a 'job'. I think Saturday that, along with everything else in my life just sort of hit me and I just felt...average.

The problem with feeling average is that it's a slippery slope that leads to a lot of self-doubt. Actually, it arises because of self-doubt, I think. It's just a feeling that nothing I do actually has an impact on everything. I come to work, do my job and it feels like no one notices. My writing is stuck on hold because I can't get anyone to take me seriously. I'm still single and feeling more so every single day, particularly in the Midwest where it's considered absolutely against the norm to be a single woman in her thirties. There's no one to whom, in this world, I matter that much.

I know this sounds horribly self-pitying. It is but at least I know that. I'm not actually trying to sound that way but, instead, trying to describe what it feels like to feel average.

The problem with this feeling is that it inspires you to look back over your life. So I start at the beginning. When I was a little Monkeypants, I thought I'd have a career and a family. The idea of being thirty wasn't even in my realm of acceptance. It was just a distant hazy future in which I would eventually arise but I'd be happy because I had a job and a family.

Well, I have a job but it's not a career. I don't really do anything special in this job that someone else couldn't do if they walked in off the street. I don't feel like I have any particular skills that make me 'special'.

I suppose there are far worse things than feeling 'average'. I am pretty lucky in my life, I know. I have my own house which is a pretty cool thing. I have eight novels written. I have good parents and interesting siblings. When I look at that stuff, I feel lucky. I am lucky which is why I feel like a whiner when I complain about it.

I think it just doesn't feel like enough. I used to have so much passion for everything and lately, it feels dulled, tarnished by the reality of life. I hate that feeling. I know the passion will come back and I'll feel fine in a few days but for now, this dark place is not where I like to exist.

So, I tried to pull myself out of it yesterday. I did have a much better day. I finally sorted out my clothes, switching my summer wardrobe to my winter one. I cleaned up my yard a little. I planted a ton of bulbs for spring. I got to feel rather guilty because The Dog Whisperer next door actually mowed my front yard for me, given the fact that my lawnmower is still out of commission. That was so nice of him that I feel guilty for calling him the Dog Whisperer. I also got to chat to his wife a little while we were both planting bulbs in our respective yards. It was nice to talk to her and get to know more about the people next door.

I think all of this was an attempt to get a grip on things, to embrace the change of the seasons and take command of it. By the time I was done, I felt better. I feel like I can start to write again, to sit at my computer and let the energy flow through me and make something up, something that entertains me and makes me happy to escape from my dull day job into an evening of fulfilling fiction writing.

In the meantime, I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and start looking around at the things I'm fortunate enough to have in my life. In the grand scheme of things, I have little to complain about. I just need to accept the fact that it's ok to be just average in life sometimes.

In the meantime, a workweek lies ahead and I refuse to allow that thought to bring me down. We have an office barbecue on Thursday so that should be...fun. Or, perhaps, slightly awkward and not terribly comfortable especially as it's supposed to rain but...maybe it'll be fun?

There I go, being sardonic again. Personally, I prefer to think of it as more bluntly honest.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Happy Monday.