Raindrops Keep Falling...

Every once in awhile a creeping kind of rain cloud type feeling finds me and sets me down in dark rooms and keeps me from going outside. It makes my patience short and my apathy long, and I loathe it. It's found me today, despite blue skies and beautiful girls, it's found me and books, or blogging, or coffee, or baseball, or nothing can rid me of the Eeyoresque look I have when I stare in the mirror. Today I need a haircut, some time to gather myself without distraction, a new and exciting discovery (music, book, long lost t-shirt, I dunno), and I need to be reminded that getting a base hit three times out of ten gets you into the Hall of Fame, but you're still allowed to be pissed off when you strike out...or when it just feels like you're striking out.

I'm good...just in a bit of a surprise funk. It happens. I just tell people about it, that's the difference.

It's not unusual that it happens after I do something good, like visiting my friend Dustin, or coming home from a trip, or whatever it is that fills me back up after being depleted. The good times are good, and their sudden and noticeable absence only reminds me that they're gone. I wish I lived closer to the people I wanted to spend time with, but I don't. I wish that I had endless distractions at my disposal, but I don't. I want to go to bookstores that don't exist, and parks that aren't here, and zoos every day. I want to people watch where all the people don't look the same, and I want to own less than what I do.

I want a lot of things.

Then there are the things that I should be doing. Why aren't I writing more? How come there are a million and half sketches, and no book for Zo? Where do all the ideas go after I think them up and do nothing about them?

Curious, this rain Eeyoresque cloud mood that strikes me...curious indeed.